


Tales about Fairies

by Kukolnyy (MelinyaValerian)



Series: Before the Thunderstorm [2]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Gen, I update tags along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:42:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 94,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22575760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MelinyaValerian/pseuds/Kukolnyy
Summary: Nobody is born a hero, and no villain has always been evil. Every journey has humble beginnings, and these are the stories that will tell how Freed Justine, Evergreen and Bickslow became friends, and later, Fairy Tail's strongest three-man-cell; the Raijinshuu.---Part II. Fiore, X778: After he left his home, Freed Justine has now decided to join a wizarding guild to seek guidance on the one topic that has changed his whole life: his eye magic. Alongside his new friend Bickslow, he journeys through Fiore to find the guild most suitable to his goals. However, this journey turns out far less straight forward than Freed would have hoped for.Meanwhile, another young mage has just recently joined a particular guild, as well; and her path is soon to cross those of Freed and Bickslow.
Series: Before the Thunderstorm [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/933252
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	1. Prologue: Little Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again!  
> Here it is - the promised second part of my Raijinshuu origin stories. It's a little (or more than a little) later than I had initially expected (because life), but to make up for that, it's also longer than the first part.  
> I'm really looking forward to publishing this. Even though it took me so long to write this and it felt more laborious than the first part, this one is full of little things that I found super exciting and satisfying to write. I hope I can transfer a little of that excitement to you in the following weeks :)  
> Just as I always do, I will update every Friday with a new chapter. And for the start, I will put out two as a little teaser. If you'd like to comment and critique down below, that would be awesome!  
> So without further ado - here you go, and enjoy reading this!

Mr. Prout hated travelling, especially coach rides. Rough and bumpy roads, neighing horses and drivers who always wanted to talk about something were at least three points on the list of the ten things he despised the most, next to intrusive clients and unpaid bills.

Unfortunately, since Mr. Prout lived in a rather remote area, coach rides where often the barest necessities. Mr. Prout's profession was that of an export merchant; he had specialised in trading typically Fiorean products with the neighbouring country of Bosco and vice versa. Logically, he had his headquarters in Conifera town, located in the far south-east of Fiore, close a large forest and the country's border to Bosco. The only allegedly comfortable ways of travelling a longer distance from here, though, where the ships starting in the next closest port town Cedar, or the new railway between Clover and Hargeon. 

Mr. Prout's currently most fervent wish was that this railway would expand further, since at least, a train had the big advantage of quiet compartments. Time spend on a train, compared to time spend in a coach, could at least be used for work. Since Mr. Prout liked to think of himself as a moderately wealthy person, and the last business year had left him with a not insubstantial surplus in his earnings, he had thus considered investing in Heartfilia Railways and supporting the expansion of his new favourite mode of transportation.

His wife, however, had been of a different mindset. They had gotten into a bit of a domestic over what to do with that surplus money, since his wife insisted that they hadn't been on vacation for years and that now, in early August of the year X778, was the perfect time to think of a holiday for the summer. 

In the end, Mr. Prout had relented. He didn't like his wife being angry at him for days, and after he had told her that it was a far more future-oriented plan to invest the further money, she had refused to speak to him for more than fourty-eight hours. It had unnerved him so much that he had finally agreed to go along with her plans.

And so, he now sat in a small street café close to the railway station in Oshibana (to which he had travelled in a seemingly unending coach ride), a cup of coffee in front of him and the day's newspaper in his hands. If everything went as planned, and Mr. Prout was sure it would, he would board the train to Hargeon later that day and would arrive in the port town in the late afternoon, where he would then proceed to meet a business partner of his who was so kind to allow Mr. Prout to charter his yacht for two weeks. The next morning, he would meet with the ship's small crew and bring the yacht to Cedar, where his wife would get on board. And then, and he hoped she would finally be satisfied then, they would go on a sailing trip along the coast of Bosco.

At least, if he was lucky, he could meet with a few of his associates in some of the port towns they would visit.

When he had a look at his watch as the content of his cup began to dwindle, he noticed that he still had a little more than an hour before his train would leave, and about an hour until it would arrive at all. He shortly thought of ordering food now to pass the time, but he had already booked his lunch in the train's diner. Maybe he should just pay for his coffee and visit the station's paper shop and look through the business magazines. 

Oshibana might have been a town of a modest size, but the station was larger than in all other towns on the railway, maybe short of Magnolia. Therefore, there was a lot of transit traffic in Oshibana, and especially around the station, the town was rather bustling. Mr. Prout didn't think much of it at first when a young girl came to a halt next to his table as he had just taken out his wallet and signalled the waitress that he wanted to pay.

“Excuse me, Sir”, she said. She looked like a traveller, too, if her pink backpack was any indicator. “Could you tell me which time it is, please? I'm afraid I'll miss my train...”

Mr. Prout took a moment to muster her – who needed to ask for the time when there was a large clock visible in one of the station's buildings? Apart from her clothes that didn't quite seemed to fit her and were apparently rather old and worn, she looked rather spruce; her curly, sand-brown hair was neatly combed into pigtails, her hands were clean, as was her face. She smiled at him, a polite smile that could have been taken as shy. However, it didn't quite seem to reach her eyes, which were a little dull behind her glasses. She couldn't have been older than fourteen.

This was her first travel alone, probably; that had to be the reason for her odd question. “There's a clock in the building over there, look”, he said to her, and gestured towards the station. He should have been alarmed when her head didn't follow his hand, but he looked away for a short moment in his attempt to be kind to her. “You can't miss your train if you keep this clock--- Hey!”

A small commotion broke out as he cried after her; she was running fast past the tables and chairs and bumped into the waitress. The woman stumbled, lost her balance and let the tray fall; and the sound of shattering tableware raised even more of a row between the people.

When he jumped up from his chair, he just saw the glimpse of her pink backpack vanishing behind a corner. 

She surely wasn't as polite and shy as she had wanted him to believe. That little witch had just stolen his wallet, from right under his nose, in the middle of a well patronised street café. 

She was either very audacious, or desperate. 

\---

She might also have been very stupid.

Mr. Prout had of course immediately reported the theft to the guard post at the train station, and the chief officer, a middle-aged, stern-faced woman with a rather impressive scar on her right cheek, had immediately taken action. It was not even twenty minutes later that a younger officer had caught the girl leaving a public restroom.

She was currently seated in the guard post's main office opposite to Mr. Prout, and the girl seemed less then pleased. 

“I demand to know what this is about!”, she said, arms crossed on her chest and tapping her foot impatiently.

Mr. Prout had to give her that she had some gall; and that it was jarring how she had went from seeming polite to appearing like a little fury. However, he was understandably just about as angry.

“Don't waste my time, girl! You know very well what this is about, you stole my wallet!”

“Nonsense”, said the girl coldly. “Just because you can't keep check of your belongings, doesn't mean that someone stole it.”

“Don't get wise with me!”, Mr. Prout spat. “Wait until your parents get to hear of this! This will not be without consequences, and when I speak with my lawyers about---”

He was interrupted as the chief loudly cleared her throat. “Would you please calm down, Sir”, she said. Mr. Prout didn't know what it was, maybe it was that her voice was rather deep for a woman's, but there was a certain authority about her that made both him and the girl calm down. “Shouting matches aren't going to solve this problem, for nobody. So, before this gets out of hand, let's start in the beginning, shall we?” 

Mr. Prout's eyes went over to the girl as the chief did the same. The girl wasn't tapping her foot any more and avoided looking at the chief. “I need your name first, young lady.”

The girl sighed indignantly, but when her eyes fell on the stern face of the chief, she relented. “My name's Ev... Eva.”

“Last Name?”

The girl's eyes went to her feet as she answered: “Emerald.”

The chief nodded, and had her sergeant write down everything. Then, her eyes went to Mr. Prout. “And just for the protocol, you were...?”

“Prout. Russel S. Prout. Export Merchant, from Conifera.”

As everything had been written down, the chief continued. “Alright. Then let's get to business. Ms. Emerald, Mr. Prout here accused you of stealing his wallet while he was sitting in the café down the street. He said you stopped at his table, asked for the time, and when he pointed you to the clock, you stole the wallet he had placed on the table and ran. Is that true?”

“No!”, said Eva Emerald loudly, and with so much force she half-stood from her chair. Then, she backed down. “I mean, I asked him for the time, that's true. But I didn't touch his wallet!”

“She's lying! Of course she took it, why would she run away otherwise!”

“It's bordering on impudence that I have to deal with this just because I asked you for the time!”

“Big words for such a small girl”, Mr. Prout snarled.

The chief officer, meanwhile, cleared her throat once more. She looked rather displeased; her eyes were sparkling with barely suppressed anger. “There is a simple way to solve this problem”, she then stated, ostensibly calm. “Ms. Emerald, if you could just empty your pockets and the content of your backpack.”

“Why should I!”, Eva Emerald exclaimed and this time, she really jumped up form her chair, her cheeks flushed red. “I have done nothing wrong!”

“Nothing wrong? You stole my wallet, fled, and then ran into half a dozen people, including the waitress!”

“I thought I was missing my train!”, the girl hissed back. 

Mr. Prout took a deep breath and wanted to reply something, but the chief officer was faster. “Stop it right there, the both of you.” Then, her eyes flew over to Eva Emerald. She made less attempts to hide her growing anger, her look was very intense. Together with the scar on her cheek and her dark hair, she looked a little like a panther, and a bit scary. “Ms. Emerald, I inform you that no matter if you want to or not, we can make you empty your pockets and show us the content of your backpack. And, if it should be necessary, we can also send for the waitress of the café to identify you and tell her version of the story”, she said in a firm voice that allowed no nonsense as an answer. “I can also send for your parents.”

Eva Emerald seemed to sink a little into the ground, and Mr. Prout felt satisfaction at seeing her face glowing red. 

“Or”, continued the chief, the tiniest bit softer now, “You could simply show us your belongings now.”

Suddenly, the demeanour of the girl changed. She had stood stiff and upright like a statue, but now, her posture lost its firmness. She put her arms around her own waist in a hug, and cast her head down to the ground, parts of her hair falling over her face. “You don't have to send for my parents”, she said quietly. Mr. Prout smirked a bit; insolent and brash as she was, she was still afraid of mother and father. Good. “They're dead.” 

Something cold and sombre seemed to fly through the room, like a bit of winter in the middle of August. “I live in the orphanage”, Eva Emerald continued. 

That explained the worn-out clothes. Mr. Prout, however, was not inclined to feel sorry for the girl after the scene she had just caused, and just harrumphed into his hand.

The chief officer, however, let out a long breath and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I see”, she said calmly. “That does not change anything about this alleged crime, though, and you know that.”

“Yes, Ma'am.”

“So, once more. Did you take Mr. Prout's wallet?” When Eva Emerald didn't answer, just stared onto the ground and started shaking a little, the chief added: “Look, if you let us see through your things and apologise to Mr. Prout, we will not pursue this further.”

“You will not tell the matron?”, the girl said feebly, now visibly shaking. 

“If you return the money should you have stolen it, and if Mr. Prout agrees, then no. I will not.”

The chief looked over to Mr. Prout, obviously expecting a statement. He already wanted to say that it didn't matter to him whether the crime would be reported to the girl's parents or the matron of an orphanage and that apparently, the girl wasn't raised with enough rules if she went around stealing, but when he looked at the girl who stood in front of her chair now, shoulders and head hanging, shaking and looking as if she wanted to vanish into the ground, he reconsidered. And when he looked up to the clock and realised his train went in not even twenty minutes, all he cared for was to get his wallet and its content back.

“Alright, it's fine with me. If I get my money back, I leave it up to you what you do with the girl, chief.”

“You heard him, Ms. Emerald.”

The girl shot Mr. Prout a thankful glance, and immediately afterwards, sprung into motion. She went over to her pink backpack and rummaged around in it, until she pulled out a little white bag that, at closer inspection, turned out to be a handkerchief knotted together.

“That is not my wallet!”, Mr. Prout exclaimed, and Eva Emerald flinched a little.

“No, Sir, I'm sorry”, she said quietly. “I thought that having someone else's wallet on me would be suspicious, so I only took the money and left the wallet in the restrooms. You can go and check, it's in the waste bin.”

The chief and her sergeant exchanged a glance, and then, the sergeant left, probably to check the restrooms for the wallet. Mr. Prout, meanwhile, counted the money the girl had handed him, all the while suppressing the urge to take out the sanitiser from his luggage to clean his wallet once he had regained it. 

“Is anything missing?”, the chief asked as he had finished.

And, probably owing to him taking action quickly and alarming the guards, indeed, nothing was missing. “It's the same amount I had with me.”

Eva Emerald let out a relieved breath she appeared to have been holding and allowed herself a careful, sheepish smile. “I'm really sorry, Sir. For everything. We... we don't get allowances in the orphanage and... I have a granny, she lives a little outside town. She's too old to take care of me, but I wanted to visit her and... I just... wanted to buy her flowers, you know? She doesn't get visitors often, and I thought she might like them, but... I'm sorry. So sorry... I shouldn't have taken your wallet.”

Mr. Prout wasn't sure if she wasn't only retelling a fairy tale, but she seemed sincere now; quieter, and something about her sadness seemed genuine. For a moment, he was inclined to really let it go, and just sighed deeply and shook his head. The chief acknowledged it with a small and pleased nod.

Silence entered the room as they were waiting for the sergeant to return. The chief started writing, probably the report, and Mr. Prout slowly grew impatient. Time went by, and his train had already entered the station, he could see it through the office's windows. Passengers from Clover were leaving the train, many others were entering. Good that he had booked a seat. Still, it wouldn't get him far if the sergeant wouldn't return.

Minutes passed by in silence. Ten minutes left until departure, and the sergeant wasn't back, then seven minutes. Eva Emerald seemed to get impatient as well, she had sat back down and crossed her legs, and seemed to frequently change which leg was on top now, her eyes flying towards the clock from time to time, too. 

Five minutes before his train would leave, the sergeant returned. “We found this in a waste bin in the women's restroom, chief”, she said, and her superior gestured her to hand the wallet to Mr. Prout.

And, indeed, it was his wallet. Relief overcame him; he could finally leave. 

“Is everything still there, Sir?”, asked the chief, and he quickly had a look. His passport, his business cards, the photograph of his wife...

“It seems so, yes, Ma'am – I would need to leave now, my train is going in a few minutes...”

“Of course. If you have your belongings back, then you may leave.”

“Thank you, ma'am”, he said curtly, and grabbed his luggage without sanitising and refilling his wallet. He would do that on the train. 

He didn't spare Eva Emerald another glance as he left the office, he only heard her voice as she said: “Can I go now, too?”

In the end, everything had worked out; but he would prefer it the next time he travelled somewhere if something like that wouldn't happen again. Trains were such a pleasant mode of transportation, it would be shame if incidents like this one would ruin his perception of it. 

He really needed to hurry, the conductor had already signalled that the doors would close soon and blown his whistle. 

Mr. Prout broke into a run, his business bag in the one hand and his wallet and loose money in the other as he caught the sight of a pink backpack and sandy brown hair running past him. 

Someone – the girl – elbowed him in the side with surprising force and he stumbled, and the assortment of things in his hands fell to the ground, in the middle of the hustle and bustle that was Oshibana's station around midday.

“Hey!”, he shouted after her the second time that day, and he nearly wanted to run after her, but his wallet and his money were lying on the ground.

He stopped, and angrily and hastily collected the things he had lost as someone stepped on his wallet and the conductor blew the whistle a second time.

When he looked back up with everything haphazardly stuffed into his pockets, the whistle sounded a third time.

“Oh no! No no no no no no no!” Mr. Prout exclaimed, pushed past people, hurried towards the train. 

But it was in vain, the doors had closed already and the train was starting to move. It couldn't be true, not now! Not again because of this blasted little girl, now he had missed his train and the next was only going in the late afternoon; it would delay his plans by half a day at least, all because of that little girl...

And when he looked up to the closest window, he saw her. She sat close to the window, head propped up on her hands, waving with a piece of paper and air-kissing him.

With both anger and shock he started to fumble with the things in his pocket – he hadn't thought of that, what if...

… what if that little witch had only ever wanted the ticket?!

\---

She fell down on one of the chairs in the empty compartment, a little smirk still on her lips. What an idiot that man had been, and if all guards where about as gullible as the old bat leading the office in Oshibana's station, getting where she wanted to be would be a whole lot easier than expected. Tell the story of the poor little orphan girl and that everything had been about the money, and nobody paid attention to small pieces of paper that could effectively be hidden where nobody dared to search.

Though, of course, this was all only temporary. Necessary little tricks to get by.

Not long after they had left Oshibana, the ticket inspector came to her compartment, accompanied by the loud voices of several kids and another adult that made it hard for her to keep the smile in place. He was followed by a family with multiple children, it seemed. She had chosen an empty compartment for a reason, and surely not because she liked the presence of noisy people.

“Sorry, miss”, the inspector said. “You can't sit there, this family here has booked the whole compartment.”

“Of course, I'm sorry”, she said automatically. She wouldn't want to share a compartment with so many loud kids, anyway. She got up from her place, took her backpack. 

On a hunch, she spared the ticket she had gotten a hold of a longer glance. It was supposed to bring her from Oshibana to Hargeon, which was the final stop, anyway; nobody would notice if she got off the train a stop earlier in Magnolia. It also said that that idiot had booked a seat, too; so probably it was best she simply looked for it. “Maybe you can help me, Sir”, she said, paying attention to sound friendly and a little confused. “My uncle booked this ticket for me so that I can visit him in Hargeon, but I couldn't seem to find my seat, so I ended up here. Can you tell me where I need to go to find it, please?”

While the family with the four kids squeezed past her, an older boy chasing a younger girl, the inspector had a look at her ticket. At least he looked away shortly, so she could roll her eyes as one of the kids ran against her knee. 

“Your uncle must be wealthy, miss”, the inspector said as he handed her ticket back to her. “That's a first class ticket you've got there. First class's in front of the train, past the diner, and the ticket includes a three-course meal there.”

“Oh, I didn't know that”, she said, honestly a bit surprised. She should have checked it better, but she had hardly had time for it in that disgusting public restroom. “He is very generous, isn't he?”, she added, half to herself and smiling a bit wider. Not just an idiot, a wealthy idiot.

“Have a pleasant journey, miss”, said the inspector, checked once more if the family had found their places, and moved to the next compartment. 

The rowdy boy and girl had started fighting, while she read the ticket again just to be sure, still not having left the compartment. 

He had looked wealthy, of course. But she wouldn't deny that she had been a little lucky with this; a three-course meal included, in the diner? She hated to admit it, but that actually made her a little giddy. She had never eaten in a restaurant before, it was a shame she only had those old, worn clothes and nothing appropriate. 

But in time, it all would change; and she would never go back, not even if they tried to force her. She was through with it all. It couldn't be bad that this new chapter of her life started with a first-class ticket and a meal in a fancy diner, could it?

“Could you leave now, please?”, said the mother of the four kids impatiently. “You've got your own seat, can't you see we need the compartment?” 

Evergreen spared her a cold glance that melted the forced smile off the woman's face. There was no need to be polite any longer. But she was in such good spirits because of her unexpected luck that she didn't even consider taking off her glasses to scare the little girl who crashed into her legs once more before she closed the compartment door.


	2. Cart Ride

As the hay cart jolted down the rough road, he gave in and allowed himself another look back. It was a bit unreal how fast the landscape seemed to change, how fields and meadows became forests and the hills and mountains that had been visible in the far distances slowly crept out of sight. When midday had passed, even the tower of Mercurius finally vanished below the horizon. 

Something within him felt as if he had been stung by a needle right through his heart; this was definitely the furthest he had ever been away from home.

And even if Freed Justine overall considered his situation a rather fortunate one, thinking back to the castle in which his father and eldest brother Hal lived and he had spent nearly fifteen years of his life in left him with decidedly mixed feelings. How could he forget that to be allowed to leave, or even for him to consider leaving his home at all, he had to go through an up and down of trouble, trials and lots of questions. And how could he forget that he couldn't go back, not even if he wanted to, because to be allowed to leave, his brother had had to exile him. It would probably remain that way for a while, all those mixed feelings inside of him, and the melancholy when he thought back of what he had left behind.

Apart from that, though, the possibility to see more of Fiore, expand his horizon and explore new things left him very excited, and filled with more energy than he had deemed possible while still in the castle. Things always had two sides, it seemed.

He turned his eyes away from the landscape behind him and back to the road in front of the cart and the magazine lying in his lap. They still hadn't finished the questionnaire.

“Question 42: What is your favourite colour?”, he read out loud. Even before he could name the possible answers, Bickslow, his travelling companion, broke into another laughing fit. He hadn't bothered to answer since question twenty, sometimes said something in strangled hiccups, but mostly nothing of substance. 

Even if Freed had at least tried to take this seriously, he sighed. “I don't see why this is any more relevant than the last ten questions. I understand that my hypothetical behaviour in a certain situation might have an influence on the result, but what does my favourite colour have to do with any of this? Or my preferred type of clothing? Not to mention those questions where we had to pick a random word. I don't see what those should accomplish.”

Bickslow, however, seemed too busy with laughing to answer; and thus, Freed only shook his head slightly at his friend and picked 'red'.

He had bought the magazine and the included questionnaire from a travelling merchant a few days back while he and Bickslow had stayed on a farm complex. The two of them had agreed that joining a guild provided them with the best chances to earn the necessary money to get by, as they both were wizards. Freed especially expected to learn more about his magic in a wizarding guild. Both he and Bickslow possessed a rare form of magic located solely in their eyes that nobody seemed to know much about. In Bickslow's case, his magic allowed him to see the souls of human beings, and take control of them if the human looked into his eyes. In Freed's case, this magical eye allowed him to will the meaning of runes he wrote into the air into existence, which had proved to be both powerful and frightening. The incident that had lead to his exile from his family's castle was closely tied to that eye magic, to an uncontrollable and botched spell that had transformed Freed into a demon; an incident that still filled him with more anxiety than he cared to admit. He had lost control over his actions, had run away from home following the realisation, then had returned just to find that the sheltered environment of his family's castle didn't help him in understanding his eye; but he needed to understand it to be able to avoid losing control of it. So leaving home had seemed like the best solution, and joining a guild as the most logical next step.

How to find a suited guild, however, seemed far more complex than just reading a magazine. Freed's initial plan had been to go to Crocus first, where his second elder brother Coen, a Rune Knight, lived, and study in one of the large libraries and make a detailed plan before going on a journey to cities further away. However, after what had happened on the farm complex a few days ago, he and Bickslow had both decided to steer clear of Fiore's capital for a while. Their first adventure together had lead them to fight against one of Crocus' mercenary guilds, Red Minotaur, multiple times; and since both of them had had their fair share in tricking and defeating members of that guild what had later ended in their incarceration, they had deemed it best to wait for a bit before visiting Crocus again. Especially Bickslow seemed keen on avoiding the town in whose streets he had been living for more than half a year. Instead, they would start their journey in the next bigger town, Clivia, which was home to two wizarding guilds and wasn't further away from the farm complex than about two days of travel. One of the farmers had even allowed them to ride along on his hay cart for a bit as he made a delivery to a smaller village halfway on the road to Clivia.

Freed had intended to pass the time with the magazine, called 'Sorcerer Magazine's Super Cool Special Edition: The Best Guild for Everyone – A Guideline for Wizard Greenhorns', and gather some background information by answering the enclosed questionnaire, but it soon had turned out nothing like Freed would have expected it to. 

And while Bickslow now didn't seem to want to calm down, he did the last eight questions on his own without bothering to read them out loud. He would see this through, even if he thought it was a bit silly.

“Question 50: How did you like this test?”, he muttered, more to himself than to Bickslow, and frowned.

Oddly enough, Bickslow actually reacted. “Great! Haven't had such a good laugh in a while!”, he said, suddenly attentive again.

Freed darted a sceptical glance at his friend, but then gave back: “I would have liked to rate the questions for their content, but that doesn't seem to be an option.” He quickly scanned through the answers. “Well then... I suppose my answer here will not influence the results all that much. 'Well enough' seems a good answer to me.”

With all the answers given, Freed started to quickly read the instructions for the evaluation. “I have mostly 'B's and 'E's, which apparently makes me suited for the Scales of Themis guild or... who would have thought, Blue Pegasus”, he said. 

As expected, Bickslow laughed at this. “That guild of models? Okay, have fun”, he said. “Don't forget to send me a copy of your first cover page!”

Freed acknowledged the teasing with a half-raised brow and ignored the rest. “You have mostly 'D's in the questions you've answered at all”, he stated instead. “That makes you suited for... a guild called Quatro Cerberus.”

Bickslow's reaction, which included a lively impression of what must have been the howling of a rabid dog, was so loud it made the horses skittish and the farmer in front of the cart swear. “This isn't really getting us anywhere, is it”, muttered Freed.

“Not sure it's meant to, buddy”, said Bickslow, still grinning broadly. “But Quatro Cerberus sounds kinda cool.”

“We can't join a guild because of a name”, Freed replied matter-of-factly. “And you could take this at least a little more seriously.”

“Not with this kinda quiz, sorry buddy”, Bickslow just said, shrugged and fell back into the hay. “That quiz's ridiculous, thought you said that, too.”

“True”, Freed admitted. “But at least, we have a list of accessible guilds now, with brief descriptions on what they represent. We're at least taking small steps.”

“I'm not in a hurry, so that's fine with me.”

“Do you actually even care where we go?”, Freed said, closing the magazine and squeezing it back into his backpack. Bickslow had been pretty indifferent about everything concerning their future guild so far, and sometimes it seemed to Freed that everything was a joke to his new friend. Sometimes, that nonchalance was something Freed could admire. Sometimes, like now, he found it irritating.

“No”, came the immediate reply. 

Freed sighed and shook his head. “So you're simply relying on me”, he muttered.

“Is that bad?”, Bickslow asked. He sounded to genuinely puzzled that it was difficult to feel irritated for long. 

“It's... a lot of responsibility”, Freed gave back.

He probably had sounded a little evasive, because suddenly, something cold and hot washed down his back and he knew that Bickslow was now directly looking at him.

“I just don't think that it's important where we go first”, Bickslow then said, far calmer than before. “We can just try, you know? When we don't like it somewhere, we go somewhere else. Simple as that. No need to fret about it now.”

  


\---

  


“That's as far as I can take you along, boys”, said the farmer when they reached the outskirts of the smaller town called Jonquil in the late afternoon. 

He stopped the horses to let them dismount. Bickslow immediately jumped up and off the cart, landed on his hands and walked a few metres on them before he pushed off the ground, turned around mid-air and landed on his feet, all the while he was laughing enthusiastically. 

Freed still found it a bit astonishing and recognised that Bickslow's leg, which had been injured a few days ago, seemed to get better by the day. The farmer, however, shook his head in disbelief. He threw Bickslow a somewhat wry look, his eyes glued to the boy's head. 

It was another aspect that Freed had noticed while staying on the farm complex with Bickslow – the odd looks that his friend received every now and then. It was probably no wonder, as he indeed looked a bit odd – thin and gawky, unruly overgrown hair and clothes that were too short and too wide. Not to mention that Bickslow had spent a good amount of time on the farm walking on his hands because of his injured leg. But most of all, what people seemed to stare at from time to time was the stick figure that was tattooed on Bickslow's forehead, and the green light emanating from his eyes. It was a little muted at the moment, as Bickslow was currently wearing a pair of glasses they had taken from the mercenaries that prevented his eye magic to affect anyone. Nobody had said a word about that green light and the tattoo on the farm, but Freed had been sure that some of them had wanted to.

Bickslow, however, was mostly either oblivious to the way people looked at him, or decidedly ignored it. Today, it was the former. 

“Well, thank you again for allowing us to travel with you”, said Freed loudly, and the farmer's eyes flew back to him. The odd discomfort vanished from them immediately.

Freed dismounted the carriage as well, took his rather heavy backpack and made a short bow before the farmer. “You all have been very kind to us. Please pass my thanks on to Mr. Chester and the others.”

“No problem, after what you did at the granary it was the least we could do”, said the farmer and shrugged a bit. Then, his eyes darted shortly back to Bickslow, who waited for Freed leaning on a tree at the roadside. “But I've got to say, you two are quite a duo.” When Freed didn't comment on this, he rubbed his neck shortly and continued: “But I guess it's time for me to meet my customers. Godspeed, boys!”

“Farewell.”

As the cart took up speed again and Freed walked over to his friend, he had to admit that the farmer had a point, though. He and Bickslow probably looked rather odd next to each other. Freed was considerably shorter than his friend, and while he wanted to tell himself it was because he was about one and a half years younger and that it would change over time, Bickslow indeed towered already over many adults. Also, as the son of a noble, Freed's clothing was of a finer quality and excellent fit, and he carried a large backpack with items he had been allowed to take from the castle as well as a rapier, his favoured weapon. His own eye magic was not as easily visible as Bickslow's, too, as it affected only his right eye that Freed kept hidden behind the fringe of his well-groomed, long, green hair. Otherwise, the looks would probably have been wry, too; like the odd glances of some of the castle's stuff prior to his exile – his magical eye had a black eyeball, and a violet iris; the near complete opposite of his normal, greenish blue eye. 

In his darker moments, Freed still thought of it as the eye of a demon, especially when the pulsing of his eyeball reminded him of what this eye had already caused. 

They continued their way towards Jonquil, mostly because Freed had insisted they spent the night, if possible, not out in the open. Sleeping outside was probably not the worst thing that could have happened to him, but if he could avoid it, he would take a solid mattress and a real bathroom anytime. Bickslow hadn't been particularly fond of the idea to rent a room in a harbourage, though. In fact, he had become a bit taciturn when Freed had steered the topic towards renting rooms and finding dinner, had suggested they simply 'crashed in a barn' as they had done in Gladiolus and ate the provisions the farmers had given them. Freed had then informed him that sleeping in a barn that they didn't own was technically illegal. Of course, Freed knew that Bickslow didn't have any money to pay for the room, but as he offered to pay for his friend, Bickslow's mood had dropped even lower, until they simply agreed that both of them spent the night as they saw fit.

  


\---

  


They found a tavern in Jonquil, a timber-framed, rather large and rustic looking building where rooms could be rented on the first and second floor.

When Freed entered the tavern, Bickslow decided to stay outside. The taproom was moderately crowded, and it was rather loud, which was a stark contrast to their quiet ride on the hay cart.

Freed took it he had to speak to whoever worked the counter in the taproom, which turned out to be a meek looking middle-aged man whose hairline had receded far beyond the top of his head. 

As Freed approached the counter he was filling huge wooden mugs with a golden substance that faintly smelled of alcohol. It was probably ale; the guards back in the castle drank a similar beverage when off-duty. Before he could speak to the innkeeper, though, the man left the counter to bring the two mugs to a table close to one of the windows, one of the loudest tables in the room, it appeared. A cloaked man with weather-beaten skin and a badly shaven face sat there, talking animatedly to another man with a bowler hat and a beard so long it reached down onto his chest. The second man also wore a huge pair of sunglasses even in the dimmer light of the tavern. Some people were looking suspiciously over to the table every now and then.

The innkeeper seemed to be in a hurry to bring these two men the new mugs of ale, even if there were already multiple empty ones in front of them. They were probably very good customers and brought in a lot of money, though the innkeeper seemed rather relieved when he left the table behind to return to the counter. He was a small man, just about at eye-level with Freed, and his eyes seemed to squint at his surroundings through a pair of tiny, circular glasses.  
When he found Freed patiently waiting at the counter, a little smile flashed over his face. 

“What can I do for you, young man?”, he said, his eyes quickly scanning Freed and sticking to his huge backpack for a second. 

“I would like to rent a room for the night”, Freed replied, turning his attention away from the loud men at the window and focussing entirely on the innkeeper.

The man raised his hands a little apologetically. “We're nearly booked out, I'm afraid”, he said. As Freed didn't show any signs of open disappointment – there surely were other places he could go, this was only his first try – the innkeeper exhaled softly and looked indeed a little relieved. Then, he took a big and very used looking book from a place below the counter, opened it and had a look inside. 

“You have to know, my wife usually deals with the rooms. When she's not there, it's easy to lose track of everything...” His long fingers darted over the lines written in the book while he muttered to himself. Sometimes, it seemed as if his eyes flashed over to the table at the window, especially when a very loud laugh could be heard from there. “Ah... I see. There's still one room on the second floor, but it's the last on the corridor and it's a bit small. Just a window, a bed, and a chair.”

“That won't matter”, said Freed. Second floor sounded good, that was far away from the loud taproom. “It's just for one night.”

The innkeeper allowed himself a far less careful smile. “This means you are interested?”

“I am”, replied Freed, “Though I have to ask first: how much would the room cost me?”

The innkeeper squinted intensely at Freed for a moment, before his eyes were drawn to the two loud men at the window once more. Then, he sighed so quietly that Freed could barely hear it. And when he said, “Well... since it's our last room and it's so small, I'd give you a special offer and rent it to you for 20000 jewels”, he wasn't looking at Freed, but at his book. 

20000 jewels... was that a lot for a single room? Freed had a quick glance into the pouch Coen had given him. He definitely had the money. But it appeared stupid to him to agree to the innkeeper's condition without knowing exactly if the price was adequate and justified.  
“I am interested, but would you excuse me for a minute?”, he finally said to the innkeeper, who, oddly enough, seemed a little uncomfortable. “I need to coordinate with my … fellow traveller first.” 

He made a point to bow shortly and quickly left the taproom. Bickslow surely knew more about the topic, he hadn't grown up in a castle far away from the world, after all. 

But outside of the tavern, Bickslow was nowhere to be seen. When Freed had entered, his companion had simply dropped to the ground, had crossed his legs and announced that he would wait, but he didn't sit any more where Freed had left him. 

He wouldn't have left just so, or would he? He was probably just somewhere close by because something had caught his attention; he didn't seem the type for simply sitting and waiting. That this left Freed having to search for him, though, was rather annoying. But it seemed that it couldn't be helped, and so, Freed only allowed himself one big sigh and began looking for his friend.

Maybe this was supposed to be that game Bickslow had told him about, that children's game called 'hide-and-seek', though Freed was sure the rules of this game involved at least a previous agreement that it was being played at all. 

Fortunately, Bickslow wasn't hard to find. Freed had searched around the tavern first, and as soon as he had went around the corner, he saw his friend; sitting cross-legged on the ground below an opened window, bent over a little and both hands pressed onto his mouth. His arms were shaking; it looked a little suspicious.

“Bickslow?”, Freed said, and the boy in question flinched in surprise, looked up and immediately shushed Freed with a gesture.

Both intrigued and a little scandalised, Freed sneaked closer and followed Bickslow's gestures to crouch down as soon as he reached the window.

Loud voices could be heard from the inside; roars of laughter, a few scraps of a conversation.

“... as if you'd really do that”, said a husky, male voice.

“'As if'?”, said a second man, he sounded a little mischievous from what Freed could hear.

“Don't tell me...?” 

A roar of laughter followed; and Bickslow, next to Freed, looked as if he wanted to explode with laughter, too and had to keep it inside with all his might. Freed had no idea why.  
“That's wild, man! You're really a good-for-nothing, aren't you?”, said the first voice. He sounded rather fond and even a little in awe. When a mug was slammed onto a table, Freed realised where he actually was – the men he was currently listening in on must have been the two men he had observed in the taproom, the same the innkeeper seemed so apprehensive about. 

“Bickslow”, Freed whispered, decidedly ignoring the ongoing conversation in the tavern. “What's all this about?”

Still on the verge of crying with laughter, Bickslow made a gesture that Freed didn't quite understand – he drew half-circles with both hands in front of his chest. He repeated the gesture as Freed simply frowned, before he gave up and whispered back: “Girls?”

Freed's frown only deepened, and he decided that whatever Bickslow was doing here wasn't his concern. Eavesdropping wasn't a particularly polite thing to do, anyway.

“I just have a question, then I'll leave you to it”, he muttered, and while Bickslow rolled his eyes dramatically, he nodded and moved his head a little closer. 

“Is 20000 jewels too expensive for a single room and one night? This is my first stay in a harbourage, so I have nothing to compare to.”

“And then you ask _me_?”, Bickslow returned. His attempt at talking quietly was far less successful than Freed's. “First circus, then street kid, remember? We had tents and trailers, no need for a room somewhere.”

“You must have slept somewhere in the winters?”

“Crashed in barns”, Bickslow returned, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. “Sometimes even asked the farmers first.”

Within the tavern, the laughter of the two men had died down, drowned in the chatter of the other patrons.

Freed sighed in defeat. “So you haven't got an idea if the offer is fair, either.”

“Sorry buddy, haven't got a clue.”

“20000 you say? A bit overblown, I guess”, said a different voice, a rougher, older voice that drove a shiver down Freed's spine and made Bickslow flinch. “But more importantly, you two never heard that good kids don't eavesdrop when the grown-ups are talking?”

Freed hardly had enough time to turn around and look into the weather-beaten face of the cloaked man before two strong arms reached out, one grabbing him and the other Bickslow, and yanked the two of them inside as if it was nothing. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, here you go! The first two chapters of this story, all in one go. I hope you enjoyed it, see you (hopefully) next week!


	3. Taproom Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay - but life got in my way last week. I will upload two chapters this week as compensation, though; so enjoy!

Some seconds later, much to the excitement of most people in the tavern, the boys found themselves in the taproom; Bickslow had been parked on a chair, while Freed – due to his backpack – was left standing by the cloaked man. 

Freed's elbow hurt; it had collided with the window frame while being pulled inside. Bickslow had quite literally been hit harder, though; he was currently rubbing his head with one hand and one of his feet with the other, muttering some curses under his breath. 

“Dammit, old man, what was that for?”, was one of the louder ones.

The cloaked man reacted with a barking laugh so loud that most of the people in the taproom flinched in their seats. 

“Ha! Hear that?”, said the man with long beard. He had a big, toothy grin on his face and his arms crossed on his chest, and seemed rather amused with the situation. “Looks like kiddo's deaf!” 

“I'm not deaf, crackpot!”, Bickslow barked back. 

“Crackpot? You're a fine one talking, kiddo”, replied the bearded man and gestured towards his own forehead.

Bickslow snarled in return and openly glared at both of the men now. Freed couldn't help it, he had the feeling Bickslow's brashness amused the two of them more than it enraged them; which, everything considered, was probably for the better.

“What about you?”, the cloaked man said suddenly, turning his attention towards Freed. “Got anything to say in your defence, or are you deaf, too?”

There was mockery in his voice that made Bickslow jump up from his chair, clenching his fists. It would certainly not improve their situation to be rash now, so Freed made a gesture that was meant to calm Bickslow down.

“We beg your pardon”, said Freed loudly, aware that most of the people in the room looked at him. “We didn't mean harm, we just...”

“... yes?”, the cloaked man inquired, his grin waning, while Freed searched for a way to diplomatically solve the situation.

“... had a little conversation.”

“Under that window?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” The grins that both men had worn had now faded completely, and especially the man with the cloak began to look to Freed rather imposing. It was a bodiless feeling, much like the feeling of being watched when he was alone in a room; like a vague notion that he didn't want to cross this man.

“Because...”, began Freed, but he couldn't even think of a less suspicious way of explaining this. They had eavesdropped, it was as simple as that. “I beg your pardon. I know we weren't behaving as we should have, and we will take full responsibility.” He ended with a small bow, a gesture that Bickslow didn't copy.

“Didn't hear anything important, anyway”, he added instead, arms crossed in front of his chest but calmer than before. “Just two old men talking about---”

“Yeah, well, we don't need to go into detail here”, the cloaked man suddenly interfered; and the man with the sunglasses snorted into his beard. “It's okay, you're forgiven, let's not talk about what you heard”, he said quickly, and the bodiless feeling of apprehension immediately left Freed. “We've had our fun, right, Lagrunge?”

“If you say so”, said the bearded man, Lagrunge, with a small shrug and a rather knowing smile.

Freed didn't quite understand how it happened, but a minute later, he and Bickslow were seated on the table on the window, while Lagrunge and the man in the cloak called for the innkeeper.

The boys exchanged a glance, making it clear that neither knew what to make of the situation. Thankfully, Bickslow kept silent as the keeper went to get two new mugs of ale and – surprisingly – two mugs of apple juice.

“Here's to good behaviour and keeping your mouths shut”, toasted the cloaked man once the beverages had arrived. Freed began to wonder whether or not he and Bickslow – but mostly Bickslow – had listened in on something important. The scraps of the conversation he had heard didn't seem very important to him. He nevertheless raised his glass, as did Bickslow.

“So, now that you already barged into this conversation, you might as well tell us what you're doing here”, said Lagrunge after a deep gulp of ale. “I'm getting bored, so tell me a story.”

As he leant back on his chair, his mug of ale still in hand, Freed and Bickslow exchanged another glance. Bickslow had both his brows raised and looked rather baffled, his hand was reaching for the glasses on his nose. Freed's mind meanwhile had trouble filling the logic gaps between the two man being amused at them, then being angry, and then inviting them to a drink, apparently. 

Still, they had nothing to hide, so if he could smooth over the situation by telling the man a little about their endeavour that was not a decision he had to ponder for long.

“We are travelling towards Clivia”, he said. “Nothing very special, I'm afraid; we're simply looking for a guild to join.”

Something in the eyes of the cloaked man lightened up, his grin grew a bit wider. He drew in a breath as if he wanted to say something, but stopped and his eyes darted over to Bickslow. When Freed did the same, he found Bickslow readjusting his glasses, eyes wide and focussed on a spot on the wall far behind both men. 

“Young wizards, I see”, said the cloaked man then, his grin turning smug. He scrutinised Bickslow intensely, and when he looked over to Freed, the boy nearly felt like back when Bickslow had read his soul; a little as if his insides were being turned out. It wasn't a pleasant feeling. It was when the man's gaze was resting on the hair that hid Freed's magical eye a bit longer than on the other parts of his face that Freed started to wonder. Something about the cloaked man seemed unusual. He noticed Freed's frown, and acknowledged it with a short, nearly dismissive laugh.

“Ever heard of Fairy Tail?”, he then asked. “The guild hall's in Magnolia; you'd be welcome there.” 

Freed hadn't expected this, but before he could have answered anything, Lagrunge burst out a loud: “Ha! You're starting to recruit again! Don't listen to him. Quatro Cerberus is the best guild there is for two wild boys like you!”

“You're a bunch of losers, that's what you are”, replied the cloaked man, his attention turning away from Freed and Bickslow and towards his companion.

“Come again?!”, replied Lagrunge, so loudly that the people started to stare again. “You take that back, or I...!”

“Hey, nothing personal; but when has your guild last done something major, huh?”

“When has _your_ guild last done a job without wrecking an entire village?”

“Oh come on, that was only once!”

The two men continued their dispute rather loudly, and worked themselves up, it seemed – first, Lagrunge jumped up balling his fists, then, the cloaked man followed and grabbed the other by the collar of his leather jacket.

Bickslow began to laugh at the sight. When the fight appeared to become more physical, Freed secured his apple juice and moved his chair away from the table. He wasn't certain what to make of this, or about how this situation had escalated so quickly. 

A part of the other customers, the smaller one, matched his actions and retreated into a corner, their drinks in hand; the larger part, however, began to cheer as the fist of the cloaked man collided with Lagrunge's sunglasses for the first time.

“You take that back, flea circus!”, the cloaked man growled as Lagrunge got back to his feet.

“The hell I will, it's the tru----”

“Gildarts Clive!”

A female voice, loud and booming, broke through the shouts and cheers like thunder rolling over the sky. Everyone fell silent; including both men who were at each other's throats again. A rather sturdy woman stood in the door frame, hands stemmed into her hips and eyes throwing daggers at the cloaked man. Behind her, a younger woman with very shiny black hair stood, wringing her hands and avoiding to look anywhere but her feet. 

The cloaked man and Lagrunge instantly froze.

“Ta... Talua”, the innkeeper suddenly said, “And Cily! You're back!”

“Yes, we are”, said the sturdy woman sternly. Freed guessed she was the innkeeper's wife, and probably the other woman was their daughter; there was something about her face that looked similar to the innkeeper's, though her eyes were larger, and squinted far less. “And you don't want to know what Cily told me, you wouldn't believe---!”

“Uhm, yes, I should go”, intervened the cloaked man suddenly, fidgeted in his pockets and drew out a banknote that he slammed onto the table. Then, he took up what looked like a big duffel bag and started to be on his way.

“No you won't, Clive! Not this time!”, thundered Talua, but the cloaked man only threw her a wide grin and a waved.

“I'd love to stay and chat, Talua, really. But I've got a job to take care of, you see, and I'm already late!”, he said and walked straight towards the right side of the building, purposively not towards the door, in which the innkeeper's wife still stood like a wall. “Oh, before I forget it”, he then said, and turned his head back over his shoulder, towards where Freed and Bickslow still sat. “Don't let him charge you 20000 for a room, boys. That's bordering on robbery”, he said easily and as he turned his head around again and his eyes flew over the innkeeper's daughter, he grinned mischievously. “Hi Cily!”

“Uhm... hi”, replied the woman quietly. A smile appeared on her face, a little shy, but rather welcoming. 

“See you around!”, said the cloaked man and then, Freed didn't quite trust his eyes, he left the building.

By walking straight through the wall, leaving a hole behind that was suspiciously shaped like a man with a cloak and a duffel bag.

The innkeeper let out a loud groan and threw his hands up in horror.

“Oh that's my signal”, said Lagrunge, dusted off his clothes and followed the other man's path, right towards the now opened wall. “I should go, too. Until next time!”, he said, waved, and hurried through the hole in the wall.

“Don't stand there and stare like a statue!”, thundered Talua towards the rather frightened innkeeper and gestured towards the hole. “Do something!”

As a small commotion broke out, Freed felt Bickslow's head appearing next to his.

“Say what you want, those guys were nuts.”

And Freed was inclined to agree.

  


\---

  


After another significant commotion in the taproom that he and Bickslow followed from the sidelines, the owner's wife approached Freed directly. She apologised for her husband's attempt at tricking him, excusing the behaviour with the damage to the building he had apparently already expected after Gildarts Clive and his companion had entered the taproom. She made it sound like it wasn't the first time they had had to repair a similar hole in the wall.

In the end, Freed decided to forgive the trick, especially because the owner's wife had reduced the price for the room to a tenth of the original offer (which, according to another patron, was a fair price) and was so kind as to serve Freed – and Bickslow, too – a meal on the house. 

As the day neared its end, the boys agreed to meet the next morning in front of the tavern. Freed used the evening to pay the bathrooms a visit. After that, he went to his room, took out the magazine again and his stationeries, and started a list with possible guilds, their locations, and personal remarks that indicated whether or not he prioritised visiting them. He would acquire a map in Clivia, and then, hopefully, he could plan a route through Fiore.

The room he had rented was indeed rather small, and didn't possess a table, so Freed had to make due writing on the seat of the chair while sitting on the bed, facing the window. In front of the window stood an old oak, with branches thicker than Freed's head. Its leaves where already turning a bit golden, a sign that autumn was nearing. Winter in the mountains had always been hard, partly stormy and often both cold and rich in snow. Was it the same in the flat land of Fiore?

Even if it wasn't, Freed still agreed with what his nursemaid Constance had said to him before he had left home; that he should definitely not spend the winter homeless and wandering through Fiore. Just the thought of it alone made him shudder. He still had about two months until then; but then again, the list of guilds was long. And he wouldn't treat the decision as lightly as Bickslow probably did; the thought of moving on and on from place to place without something like a home to return to... he had been living this for a few days now, and while it mostly felt more like going on a rare holiday at the moment, he wasn't sure if that feeling would prevail when he would be trudging through the snow.

A while after he had started working on his list, a clicking noise tore him out of his thoughts. He was only mildly surprised when he found Bickslow sitting in the branches of the tree in front of his window, knocking. It had nearly grown dark outside.

“Hey”, Bickslow simply said as Freed opened the window, a wide grin on his face. He wasn't wearing the glasses. “The village's really small. Been on every roof twice, nothing interesting happened. I'm bored.” He made no attempts to enter the room though.

“You could have knocked on the door”, said Freed, but Bickslow only laughed.

“Was quicker this way. So – what you're doing there?”

“Going through the guilds and making a list. It seems we have a lot of work ahead.” Freed decided it was best not to stay on the topic of entering rooms or barging in on other people working. He had the feeling his friend wouldn't quite understand, and in the end, Freed didn't mind company. Quite the contrary; Bickslow at least kept his mind off of wandering back to his father and brothers and the life he couldn't return to. 

He gestured towards his list, and Bickslow stretched his neck and turned his head so he could at least half read it.

“Anything I can help with?”, he then said.

Freed looked at his friend, brows raised. “I thought you didn't care?”

“Don't get me wrong, I'm not gonna write a thing. But I've been to a lot of places, I figure that might be handy.”

“It might, indeed”, Freed replied. His own knowledge about Fiore was mostly theoretical, arising from the study of maps and Geography lessons. Combining it with practical experience was certainly useful. “You see, I try to sort this list according to the reachability of the guild, and according to how high I prioritise visiting them. For example: Lamia Scale is very high on my priority list, and according to this magazine, it's guild hall is in Lutea, which is in the south-east of Clivia, and not too far way, as I recall. It's hard to make a decision without a map, but I would think this combination seems promising.”

Bickslow had listened attentively, eyes narrowed and staring onto the paper. “Wouldn't go from here to Lutea the direct way, though”, he then said and readjusted his position so that he could comfortably lean against the window frame now. “Lutea is close to that big river... uhm – what was the name? - Tulip, I guess. Back in the circus, we once tried to get from Lutea to Crocus over the river, hoped for a ferry. Turned out that the river regularly bursts its banks in the late summer and early spring, and the region around it is more a big swamp then. Gotta move around it, either in the east, close to uhm... Hargeon? That's what we did back then. Or down west at the coast.”

Freed had followed Bickslow's explanations, mentally revisiting a map of Fiore he still had in mind. Some areas were a bit hazy, but he seemed to recall most of it. “But isn't there a small mountain range close to the coast in the south-west?”

“Uh... maybe? Never been there, sorry.”

“That means it would probably make more sense to go to Lutea via Hargeon. There are...” Freed searched the list of guilds in the magazine, filtering the locations of guild halls. “No guilds there, apparently.”

It was indeed a bit disappointing. Maybe it would be more effective to go a different route, then; he definitely needed a more accurate map.

Bickslow, however, didn't seem deterred and shrugged. “But Magnolia's close, too. And you heard what the weird old guy said; Fairy Tail's in Magnolia.”

“I don't know”, said Freed, putting the magazine away once more and letting his scepticism be known by knitting his brows. “My brother Coen told me about Fairy Tail, he also mentioned this Gildarts Clive, and apparently, they often get into conflict with the law. And their master is rumoured to have, as he called it, a screw loose.” 

Freed could already see the grin tugging at his friend's lips, and added a: “You saw what the man did down in the taproom”, before Bickslow burst out laughing.

“Your call, buddy. I thought he was kinda funny”, Bickslow then said, shrugging his shoulders but still visibly amused.

“I think your words were along the lines of 'he is nuts'”, returned Freed, a little resigned.

“Yeah, sure. He's nuts, and his friend with the sunglasses is, too. But the two were kinda entertaining, you've gotta give them that.”

“By the way, did you... did you take a look at his soul?” Freed had meant to ask this earlier, but there hadn't been an appropriate moment to. 

“I was curious, yeah”, replied Bickslow. For a fracture of a moment, his eyes seemed to glow in an even brighter green. “That guy had something, I don't know what; so I looked.”

“May I ask what you saw, or, what you think of him?” It felt intrusive to ask such a thing, but Freed had to admit that Bickslow's ability fascinated him.

His friend, indeed, looked taken aback by the question. “Well... he was... like an oven”, he started, unusually careful. But then, as Freed's steady gaze made it clear that he was interested, he added: “Something about his soul was orange and red, like fire. But... it was also kinda quiet, like embers? As if he... I don't know. Like when you're sitting next to a camp fire that's burning down, and you could throw in more wood, but you don't. But you could, any second. I just... knew he could be different from what we saw, somehow. It's hard to describe.”

Freed pictured himself next to a warming, friendly fireplace back in the castle, throwing in too much wood until the flames grew too large to be contained, lashed out for him and he was caught in the blaze. “I had this feeling, too, I think”, he replied. It wasn't quite the same he had felt, but it was close. “I knew I didn't want to cross him.”

“I wouldn't wanna cross anybody who can walk straight through a wall, to be honest.” Bickslow leant a bit forward where he sat at the window, resting his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. 

“Most certainly not.” Freed's thoughts went back to what his brother had told him, that this Gildarts Clive was one of the worst causes of trouble in Fairy Tail. “If all people in Fairy Tail are like that...”, he said, thoughts trailing off with a shaking of his head.

“... it's gonna be tons of fun!”, said Bickslow, ending Freed's sentence not quite like he had initially wanted. Bickslow was laughing again, and the idea of being in a guild of this reputation seemed to fill him with so much enthusiasm that his tongue was hanging out.

It could also be a complete disaster, of course. But maybe, when they were on the way to Lamia Scale, they could at least take a look.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is - Freed's first meeting with guild wizards. Probably not what he would have expected :D  
> Anyway - if you're wondering about the name "Lagrunge", I really wasn't all that creative with that name. But while writing this, I was addicted to this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vppbdf-qtGU and that just yells "Quatro Cerberus" at me...


	4. Clivia's Best

To Bickslow's eyes, Clivia's marketplace looked a lot more like that of a village than that of a well-populated town. But then again, compared to Crocus, three-story houses looked like huts and a normal street like a beaten track through a forest. Spending a few months there had probably skewed his standards, if Clivia seemed small to him; and 'smaller than Crocus' wasn't usually a bad thing to Bickslow. 

But, he also knew that 'smaller than Crocus' and – most importantly – less populated, meant that people paid more attention to newcomers and outsiders, and it was less easy to just vanish in a big crowd of people. Most of the time, he couldn't care less. But at the moment, not being able to find any good spot for cover or just a single big crowd of people annoyed the hell out of him.

The roofs of the houses were too far away, that was out of question.

The market stands weren't solid; it were these hovels that could easily be built up and taken down when needed, so no cover there. 

No fountains, or statues, or trees either; and most people were at least half a head smaller than he was and travelled in groups of two or three.

Dammit, this town sucked. 

Freed had gone off to the library, Bickslow had preferred to satisfy other urges – he was hungry. Sure, there had been the free meal yesterday, and the stuff the farmers had left them with; he'd had breakfast in Jonquil and a second one somewhere on the road to Clivia. But it was already past lunchtime, and there was this one stand with the fruit cakes – resistance had become futile as soon as he had smelled them. 

Generally, it was an easy task – those fruit cakes whetted his appetite, Freed was not here to chastise him for stealing, and he was just killing time anyway.

But then the complications started when he had a look around – the surrounding wasn't really theft- friendly.

His best shot was probably to create a distraction. Ran into someone, caused a bit of a scene. Or... he just ran up to that stand, took a cake, and jumped onto the next closest roof. They couldn't get him there, anyway. 

Version two of his plan sounded far more appealing at the moment, because damn. Waiting for Freed sucked, too. 

And the world was so bland with those damn specs on. They beat the bandage, sure; but only because he could use both his eyes now. Otherwise... they slipped off his nose more than they should, fell off completely when he tried a backflip or anything else, really; and the world looked just off without all those souls. 

Would be damn useful to know how dangerous the soul of that baker looked to check if running up and grabbing a cake wasn't more trouble than it was worth.

“Excuse me, Sir”, said a voice close to him, and he hardly reacted. His fingers were itching for the specs.

“Sir!”, repeated the voice, and Bickslow followed its general direction to find the owner of the stand he was currently standing in front of staring at him, brows furrowed. “Would you please tell me if you are interested in something?”

Still a bit flabbergasted, Bickslow quickly looked to his left and right, but there was nobody else but him. “Who, me?”

“Who else?”, replied the man, a small, pretty round fellow who showed more than a fleeting resemblance to a mole with his watery eyes and big, pink nose. He also sounded as if he had some health problems, loud and rattling as his breathing was. “Excuse me, but you've been standing there staring for the last fifteen minutes, so I _assume_ you are interested in something?”

Shrugging his shoulders, Bickslow quickly scanned what the trader, a mapmaker, had to offer and checked the weight of the small pouch Freed had left him with. “Just a map of Fiore, I guess.” 

The merchant let out a noise that wasn't identifiable as either a loud breath or a stifled snort. “I can give you a special offer on this one here”, he said, pointing his stubby fingers at a fancy looking yellowish map in a glass frame. It seemed antique, but that frame was pretty impractical. “Just give me the cheapest, really”, Bickslow said plainly, “We're just travellers.”

The merchant grunted something unintelligible at Bickslow's lack of enthusiasm. “I can also recommend this one; this one shows Ishgal in its entirety, and I'm sure you as a traveller can appreciate this...”

“No, just Fiore.” Freed hadn't said anything about Ishgal, and Bickslow'd be damned to spend someone else's money on nonsense.

“Are you sure I can't interest you in---”

“Yeah”, Bickslow intervened, rather forcefully. “Map of Fiore, cheap. Not more, not less.”

Just a minute later, and accompanied by some murmuring from the merchant, Bickslow left the stand, a cheap, foldable map in one hand a lot of change in his other, his eyes already glued at the bakery again. 

There was currently a bit of a crowd; a father with three kids it seemed, all far younger than he was, but just about as interested in the fruit cakes. That could maybe help cause a distraction.

He approached the bakery stand in a slack pace, hoping the smallest kid would start crying or something, ready to jump into action if necessary.

Luck wasn't on his side, though; as all happened rather orderly, the kids were all damn well-behaved, just looked at the stuff, stated what they wanted, and their dad bought it. 

Boring. Useless.

He let his eyes trail the little group as they left, the father carried the youngest on his shoulders, and the kid munched happily on a cinnamon roll. The other two were neatly walking next to their dad; they looked like twins and had fruit cakes, one of them with cherries, one of them with blueberries. 

Bickslow's uncle used to carry him like that, years ago; had allowed him to climb onto his head, too. The thought back stung, he had tried so hard not to look back, not to think of all those little things; in hopes to numb this one thought that would never really leave him – what would his uncle say if he could see him now?

In the last days, Bickslow had more and more figured out that after what had happened on the farm, after... everything; and even before, after what he had spent his last months with, his uncle would probably be glad that things had started to look brighter again. Of course, only if he would have forgiven his nephew for his stupidity. And if the dead could even do something like forgive, or say anything about the situation of the living. But if all those little soul fragments that he sometimes saw had once been---

Before his thoughts could trail off more, he saw a flash of green hair amongst the people; and noticed Freed, a stack of papers under his arm and his face mirroring Bickslow's current mood. Freed's eyes followed the father with the three kids, too.

They both had their crosses to bear, so much was clear. Freed didn't make a fuss about it, but Bickslow knew he had already written multiple letters back home; one in the evening, yesterday, when Bickslow had tried to fall asleep on the tree branch close to the window in that harbourage in Jonquil. To Bickslow, the whole story with the exile looked like a lot of unnecessary drama, but Freed chewed over it, that was easy to see. And, to be completely honest with himself, Bickslow would probably chew over something like that, too. He just knew that he wouldn't want to trade his uncle for Freed's dad and brothers, no matter what.

Freed didn't see him approaching, his eyes were following the family and Bickslow approached him half from the side.

“Hey, found something?”, he said nonchalantly when he had come close enough.

Freed's eyes twitched as if startled before he found Bickslow standing next to him, but he regained composure quickly. “Not as much as I had hoped”, he replied, voice even. “I could take a few notes, but it appears there isn't much to find in this library, it was rather small.”

“Tell me about it.” Bickslow shrugged and didn't make any attempt to hide his boredom. “It's not Crocus; I noticed that, too.”

“What about you, could you find a map?”

With a nod, Bickslow handed his acquisition over to Freed, together with the pouch with the remaining money Freed had given him. “There's a mapmaker over there, wanted to sell me a map of Ishgal. You interested? We could just skip this whole 'find a guild' business and go to Bosco; they have amazing beaches there.”

Freed acknowledged his idea with a raised brow and a slightly annoyed half-smile. At least something. “And what should that get us?”

“A nice tan and coconut milk, if nothing else”, Bickslow replied casually.

“Coconut milk?” Count on Freed's curiosity, that was something Bickslow had already learned about his new friend.

“Yeah, they crack open a coconut, put in a straw, and then you can drink the stuff that's inside. It's pretty good, actually.”

“I've never seen a real coconut. And never tried one, either”, Freed said, a matter-of-fact tone hiding something like disappointment. “But I remember my Biology tutor showing me a few pictures.”

“No surprise you've never come across one, really; they don't grow up in the mountains.”

At that, Freed chortled a little. “They grow on palm trees in warmer climate, am I right? I suppose that would have been quite a sight, a palm tree on Lake Saffron.”

“Even better: a palm tree in winter!”, Bickslow replied, feeling his own mood getting lighter again. “So, what do you say? Skip Lutea, and head towards the palm trees?”

A small smirk moved over Freed's face before he shook his head. “I have other priorities, I'm afraid. Clivia's guilds, for example. Let's go and see them for ourselves.”

Well, so much for that plan, it was not as if he had expected Freed to agree, anyway. 

But at least, the gloominess was gone.

  


\---

  


“Are you ready?” Freed looked up over his shoulder, tugging at his vest and shirt cuffs.

“Sure”, Bickslow gave back easily while Freed scanned his clothes now, frowning a bit when his eyes flew over Bickslow's hair. He didn't really get what all this fuss was about; they weren't meeting the Queen or something, it was just a guild. 

They were standing in front of a slim, tall building with a lot of windows, but he couldn't see anything through them apart from many colourful curtains. Above the door was a sign with a single green eye that seemed to stare at them as they stood there, half a step away from the door.

And despite that this was hardly going to be their last try, Freed looked as if this was the most important event of the decade, fully concentrated, smoothing over his hair once more before he knocked.

Bickslow drew out a last long sigh and then, the door opened. Wherever that went, it didn't look like fun.

It didn't look like anything at all in fact, when the door opened and they entered the building one after the other. It was dark inside the narrow room that had something of a tube; the air was sticky, thick and smelled like sweets; and there were faint metallic noises from somewhere. The door fell shut behind them, but nobody was there to close it.

“Step forward, younglings”, said a bodiless female voice whose owner had probably been inside this atmosphere for too long, smoky and rough as it was. And suddenly, a door behind a thick curtain on the other side of the room opened and the corridor became a little bit lighter.

This felt familiar, much, much too familiar for his tastes.

Freed didn't waste a second and got back into motion. Small bells on the curtain jingled as he went on into a second room, Bickslow on his heels.

And when he entered the next room, he found all of his concerns to be absolutely and totally right. Numerous curtains and lighter pieces of cloth in all imaginable colours were hanging from the ceiling, fairy lights, too; silver threads with bells on them. Billows of colourful smoke went past them like clouds and it smelled like a grave accident at a perfume trader's. At least a dozen people were in the room too; practically wearing the curtains as clothes so that the most he could see of them were their faces, and for some, even those were hidden behind one of the many crystal balls.

“Really? Fortune tellers?”, he muttered, half to himself. They'd had a fortune teller in the circus; not a magical one, of course. An old bat who loved to stare into tea leaves and chicken bones and whatnot, and she wasn't part of his fondest memories.

Freed deigned to look over his shoulder just a bit, his one visible eye bare of any surprise. “Yes, as I told you over breakfast.”

Then, just in the second one of the women got up from an admittedly cosy looking armchair, he turned his attention back to the members of Cassandra's Eye. 

“Awesome.” Bickslow already hated this place.

“Your coming has been expected, younglings”, said the standing woman. She didn't look at them, though, her eyes were focussed on a crystal ball in her beringed, long-fingered hand. She wore so many clothes and shawls that she looked like a pile of fabric topped with hair.

“We are honoured by the kindly welcome”, Freed said evenly, undeterred by the smoke that began to make Bickslow's throat feel scratchy. Freed even bowed, and not that curt bow he sometimes did either; it was a long, pretty artsy one. He better knew how ridiculous that looked. “My name is Freed Justine, and this is my friend Bickslow. We have come to your guild to seek---”

“... guidance in the perilous darkness of the paths your lives have taken”, interrupted him the standing women, eyes glued to her crystal ball, widening as she tried to decipher the smoke inside. Freed cleared his throat so quietly it was hardly noticeable, most of all, not by the ball-lady. “We know you both have been lost in the endless mazes of fate; mere lambs on their way to the inevitable slaughter, seeking for enlightenment and the one truth that is weaved through the fabric of space and time itself: the future.”

They couldn't be serious with this. Bickslow's eyes went over to the other people, the other wizards, but they just stared at their own balls, into teacups and cards laid on the tables in front of them.

Very much to Bickslow's relief, Freed seemed about as baffled.“Yes... uhm, you could probably paraphrase it like that”, he said and cleared his throat once more, louder this time. “Although, please allow me state our intentions, as well. We are wizards and look for a guild to join.” 

“Of course you are“, said the ball-lady mysteriously. Something in that crystal in her hand began to glow faintly golden. “Many souls who have ventured in the darkness of a perilous night for too long come to seek our guidance.“

Freed glanced over his shoulder to where Bickslow stood, eyebrows raised the tiniest bit. Bickslow, on his part, only shrugged.

“Uhm, well”, said Freed as Bickslow didn't make any attempt to speak. “Connected to the issue with our souls---”

“Though we are afraid that neither of you possesses what it takes to join this illustrious guild.”

“I beg you pardon?” The way Freed's posture loosened at those words, how his shoulders dropped and he tilted his head a bit was actually quite funny. 

“You!”, the ball-lady suddenly nearly shouted and pointed at Freed, who took an involuntary step back, Bickslow two. The golden mist in her crystal ball seemed to glow stronger, and, if Bickslow wasn't mishearing things, the other people in the room started to hum. “And you!” She pointed at Bickslow now, trembling fingers as the ball in her hand started to vibrate.

“Aware of worlds that no one else can see, but both of you are blind! The perils you have both endured have clouded your perception, your inner eyes are shrouded in darkness – you will never see what we see, and never share in the connection of the brothers and sisters of Cassandra's Eye!”

The humming seemed to grow louder, now more a tune of a gigantic bee hive instead of a group of people who probably had inhaled too much of their own perfumes. Even against the background noise, Bickslow was sure that he heard Freed trying to hide a snort. 

On a second thought, maybe this wasn't so bad, it sure was entertaining in its own right, once he had gotten over the fact that he was surrounded by fortune tellers, of all things. 

“Alright then”, said Freed rather loudly, “If this is your verdict, then we will---”

“Wait!”, the ball-lady cried, her eyes behind the crystal ball growing wider. “You haven't received your free prophecy yet!”

As Freed balled his fists, Bickslow finally had had enough. “She really doesn't like letting you talk, buddy”, he brought out in between giggles.

“I've noticed.” Freed turned around on his heel, brows furrowed and glowering at Bickslow. “Let's leave.”

“You're the boss.”

But first, Freed took a deep breath, straightened his back again and turned around once more, his politeness getting the better of him. “Well... thank you for your time. You are probably right, Cassandra's Eye is … too _illustrious_ for my friend and me.”

“Yeah, no offence”, Bickslow added. “See you... or something.”

But before either of the boys could leave, the humming grew so loud that it seemed to fill the whole room; and the golden smoke in the crystal ball of the ball-lady grew thicker and brighter. Bickslow had the feeling she'd probably blather something about 'perilous foggy nights' or something like that soon, and in fact, her eyes were torn open and she had to steady the hand holding the ball with her other as the vibrations seemed to get out of control.

“Ah! I see it!”, the ball-lady cried out. “Bright and clear like sun breaking through the clouds, but... peril, so much peril...”

He didn't even try to hold it back, Bickslow just laughed. Damn, that woman sure had a favourite word. And Freed, half-turned towards the door, looked torn between just leaving and staying, clearly sceptical. 

“... There is... darkness... and grave danger ahead of you... ”

“Of course”, muttered Freed dryly. 

“... a maze of decisions you can hardly master on your own...”

“We'll try.”

“... a forest, darker than the night itself, the trees are all dead and you follow the child but you cannot reach it, no ...”

Freed started to lose the patience for his politeness, took a deep steadying breath. It was a pretty hilarious sight; such a stark contrast to the humming wizards and the ball-lady who looked pretty much electrified. 

“... they come from beyond the sea, peace was their mission but they've gone astray...”

“I beg your pardon?”

Now that had escalated quickly, Bickslow didn't even try to pretend that he could still follow. He just looked at the situation in all its glorious hilarity and laughed.

“... and he who came before them all found his end as the one touched by the ancients came for him...”

“Come on, Bickslow”, Freed finally said. Politeness apparently wasn't enough to stand this any longer. He cleared his throat loudly, but the ball-lady didn't really notice him.

“... one of them died before, and more will follow...”

“Well, thank you for your time”, said Freed, firm and loud, but nobody paid attention.

“... against all odds they held the line...”

“We will be on our way now. Your advice has been... invaluable.”

Bickslow was really impressed that Freed could lie through his teeth like that when he usually didn't seem the type.

“... and he stood on the tower, singing as he undid his mistake and the world crumbled around him...”

Without another word, Freed turned around fully and left. 

Bickslow took a last glance at the comical scene in front of him, and followed. “Yeah... don't forget to be careful, guys. You know, perils and that stuff. Bye!”

The fresh air outside had never felt so relieving.

“What an utter waste of time”, said Freed when they had left the building behind. Bickslow hadn't expected him to be able to scowl like that.

Bickslow himself, though, was still laughing a bit. “Fortune tellers, where did you think this would go?”

“Somewhere involving ... less nonsense.”

“At least they didn't consult the chicken bones.”

Freed took a deep breath and massaged his forehead. “Well... yes. At least, one guild less on the list. Or maybe more. I think I had enough of fortune tellers for the next weeks at least.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick disclaimer: Yes, I am a big Harry Potter fan. Any similarities to other fortune tellers are, of course, absolutely coincidental *ahem*.


	5. The Prey

In retrospect, Freed wasn't sure whether or not he wanted to look at their day in Clivia as a success. 

He hadn't expected to find anything regarding his or Bickslow's eyes, not really. With regards to tutoring his children, Freed's father was nothing if not thorough. If he had searched Fiore for information about Freed's eye, and had only found the unfortunate Lorentz Rauckal, then information was probably hard to come by, most of all not in the library of a middle-sized town. But Freed had still hoped for more information than the membership statistics of the local guilds.

And when it came to Cassandra's Eye, Freed didn't even try to think positive and consider their brief visit of this guild worthwhile. Guilds like this one were probably the reason his father didn't think very highly of this line of work. Freed had never been confronted with fortune tellers before, but he certainly hadn't expected _this_. 

Unfortunately, the second guild of Clivia hadn't been a success, either, as both he and Bickslow had been unable to locate their guild hall. Freed had asked around a little, and it appeared that the guild hall of Kobold Garden was assumed to be invisible and likely only appeared in a night of full moon. This certainly qualified as an information Freed would have expected in a comprehensive list of wizarding guilds like the one printed in the Sorcerer Magazine. Bickslow simply found it amusing.

In the end, they had stayed in Clivia for the night and Freed had spent the evening making use of the only good thing that had come out of the day – the map – and had started planning a route. It would lead them, as Bickslow had already suggested, to Hargeon next, with intermediate stops in every town underway that housed a guild.

The next day, Freed had been rather glad to leave Clivia behind. All in all, their stay had been moderately frustrating. Bickslow didn't seem to be bothered by the ill successes of the last day the slightest; apart from being uncomfortable around fortune tellers. As they made their way through fields and forests, Bickslow seemed in good spirits, as if their several hour long and increasingly disheartening search for the guild hall of Kobold Garden had never happened. Maybe there was some merit in that light-heartedness, in not taking ill successes too hard. 

But on the other hand, Freed sometimes caught himself thinking about which day of the week it was, which time of day; and which classes he would have had, which things he would have learned, would he have stayed in his father's castle. A definite road ahead, a plan, a structured day – and all that was left was wandering into something undefined. There would be more situations like the day before with Cassandra's Eye and Kobold Garden, without a doubt. But their list of guilds was long, and sooner or later, they would find something appropriate – their journey had just started, after all. 

Rationally, it made no sense to be dissatisfied. 

And besides that, Bickslow was certainly a good distraction with all the little stunts he performed seemingly out of nowhere. Sometimes, he broke into a run that ended in a multitude of jumps and turns and somersaults, sometimes he jumped onto a tree branch and let himself hang down like a bat, making it a point to start an upside-down conversation with Freed. Most of those stunts also lead to him losing his glasses, what in turn lead to rather colourful swearing. 

“Damn those stupid specs!”, was one of the more harmless ones. It was already late afternoon, and Bickslow was currently hanging upside-down in a tree branch once more, reflexively closing his eyes as the item in question slipped off his head and landed on the ground below him. 

Freed thought about telling him that it was hardly the fault of the glasses that he couldn't stop jumping around, but kept himself from it. Instead, he went to pick up the glasses so that Bickslow could safely land without destroying them.

“This was never more than an intermediate solution”, he said calmly. “Once we've found a town where we stay longer, you can find something different.”

Bickslow, still hanging from the tree, crossed his arms on his chest, thinking. “Goggles, maybe? Big ones. Tinted orange. Somebody there?”

“No.” Freed preferred to avoid imagining this. “I rather thought of better fitting glasses”, he said. “My brother Hal had really good ones, we had an optician from Crocus at the castle who fitted them so perfectly that they wouldn't impede him in a fight.”

“'Cause your family is filthy rich”, said Bickslow dryly. He opened his eyes again, and let himself fall down from the tree. He landed on his hands and then turned over onto his feet in another jump. 

“We _are_ going to find paying jobs in the guild we're going to choose, in the best case.” Freed handed the glasses over to Bickslow, who simply put them into his pockets.

“I've had enough of those. Next time people are near, okay, I'll wear them. Until then, you know. Just don't look.”

Freed thought shortly that it might be a risky decision, but then again, there was nobody except for them on the road at the moment, and Freed's own eye was only concealed by his hair and an eyelid. Ideally, they would find someone who could teach them to control their eyes, and they wouldn't have to think about glasses or similar things any more.

“And a paying job?”, Bickslow started, looking up to the sky and crossing his arms behind his head as he and Freed continued down the road. “What kind of work do wizard guilds even do?”

Freed thought back of what he had learned about different guilds in his classes. “They can be hired by different parties and perform the jobs they are requested to, in the case of wizarding guilds these jobs mostly relate to the use of magic.”

At this, Bickslow laughed. “Thanks, buddy. Would never have figured out that much by myself”, he said teasingly, his tongue hanging out.

Freed allowed himself an exasperated sigh. “I've never been part of a guild either, so that is about all I know.”

“Am I the only one who thinks it sounds a lot like merc work? Only with magic?”

“That is not...”, Freed replied like automatic, but when he thought about it, his friend wasn't so wrong. “That is not very far away in principle, I think. Though I do hope the jobs involve less hunting down of children.”

The road through the forest slowly turned into a mere pathway as the trees grew thicker and denser. The sky and sun seemed to vanish behind the leaves. They would spent this night out in the open, it seemed, but thanks to his new map, Freed had at least anticipated this. There was a small village called Aconite further into the forest, but it was a detour on their way to Hargeon.

He and Bickslow exchanged ideas of their possible future jobs along the way, covering the whole spectrum from 'rather likely' to 'complete and utter nonsense', mostly, but not totally, thanks to Bickslow. 

They had come across the one or other traveller and merchant on their way, but had spoken to nobody and nobody seemed to pay much attention to them, either. When the light situation began to suggest that they were nearing dusk, however, Freed thought to hear someone approaching.

“You might want to put on the glasses again”, he said to Bickslow as he heard noises in the undershrub. “I think there is someone coming.”

But nobody came. Instead, Freed heard something that sounded like tearful sobs mixed into the rustling of dead twigs and leaves.

Bickslow now noticed it, too; and pushed the glasses firmly onto his nose. “You hear that?”  
“Yes. It sounds like someone is crying.” 

It only took a look at each other and a nod from Freed before they went into the direction of the sobbing.

Not even ten metres away from the road they found the source; a little boy huddled down below a big tree, hugging his knees and crying into his arms, muttering something in between sobs. His trousers were torn, and Freed could see a bit of blood.

Alarmed, he didn't think twice and further approached the child, Bickslow at his heels. He found himself at a bit of a loss of what to say and if he should make himself noticeable by touching the boy on the shoulder, though, and hesitated. They didn't know anything about the situation, what if it was absolutely uncalled for to interfere, what it they scared the child, two strangers, approaching him just so? If they acted, it had to be with care. 

Bickslow had no such worries, it seemed, went a step further than Freed dared to and squatted down, hardly more than a few decimetres away from the boy. “Hey little buddy”, he said, wearing a warm smile. “You okay?”

And indeed, it was enough to make the boy look up from his knees. When his bloodshot eyes fell onto Bickslow, something lightened up in them and he immediately grabbed Bickslow's arm. “You've come through the forest, have you seen my mum? She's really tall and wears a green hat!”

“Your mum?” Bickslow looked up to Freed, but the child didn't notice it. He nodded so enthusiastically, as if something like faint hope had awakened in whatever despair had lead him here. 

It took Freed a lot to speak up. “I'm afraid not”, he said calmly. The boy's head turned around to him now, and he saw what he had feared; hope being crushed by the truth. 

New tears were forming now. “But I have to find her!”, the boy cried. “She's gone, and I'm alone, and they're already closing the gates!”

The boy tried to struggle to his feet, but didn't come very far as his legs gave in. “Woah, careful, buddy!”, said Bickslow as he caught the boy, preventing him from simply falling over. 

“Let me go!”, the boy cried, now determined all out of sudden. “I _have_ to find her before they close the gates!”

“Not with that leg, you don’t”, said Bickslow rather sternly and didn't let the boy's arms go.

“He is right, you need treatment”, Freed added, but the boy wouldn't have it.

“If nobody warns mum she's going to be alone out here in the night! And in the night...”

Freed couldn't make sense of all the boy said, but decided that it was best if he looked for clean bandages in his backpack. From what he could see from where he stood, the boy had some cuts on his legs, likely stemming from something thorny, and was very exhausted.

“How about you start in the beginning, buddy”, Bickslow said. “My friend and I here maybe haven't seen your mum, but that doesn't mean we can't help you.”

He looked up to Freed, who nodded in approval. A smirk ghosted over Bickslow's face in return.

“You help me find my mum?”

“Sure”, said Bickslow.

“We'll try”, said Freed.

It worked. The boy calmed down, and Bickslow let go of his arms. “But we have to hurry. When night falls, the beast comes.”

“Beast?”

“What kind of beast?” Freed found the bandages under his stationeries. “A forest vulcan?”

“Don't know, but it's dangerous!”, replied the boy. His sobbing had stopped completely, new determination had filled him, it seemed. 

Freed went onto his knees next to the boy. “All beasts are, but that knowledge alone doesn't help in defending against it. We need to know more than that”, he said. “And I need to see your leg up close.”

The boy obediently stretched out his injured leg. The cuts were fortunately rather shallow, so a bandage to prevent the wounds from infection was possibly enough for now. It was a good thing Constance had shown him how to treat minor injuries.

“Nah, beast is beast. We deal with that later, first we need to know what happened to your mum”, said Bickslow. “Let's start this over. I'm Bickslow, this is Freed. And who are you?”

“I'm Alvin.”

“And where do you come from, Alvin?”

“I'm from Aconite, my mum's the village's huntress.”

“Then she might just be hunting game?”, Freed asked carefully, hoping that this ominous beast would instead turn out to be a boar. 

But Alvin shook his head. “She was yesterday, and the day before. And that before. Uncle Nuncio came at breakfast and said she can't go today because the stocks are full. And mum listens to uncle Nuncio.”

“So she was with you over breakfast?”, asked Freed.

“Yes. Then she sent me to auntie Ellenor for some bread, and when I come back, she's gone! She didn't say anything! But mum _always_ tells me when she goes out hunting, because I sleep at auntie Ellenor's place then!”

“What about your father?”, said Freed.

Alvin shook his head again. “I don't have one.”

Freed knew better than to ask further. “How about we get you back to Aconite?”

Bickslow's eyes darted up to Freed once more, questioning and a little angry. “But we---”

“It's safer this way.”

He gave Bickslow a reassuring nod, hoping he would understand without them having to discuss the issue in front of Alvin. They had, after all, agreed to find the boy's mother, Freed hadn't forgotten about that, but their priorities had to be different. 

Bickslow held Freed's gaze for a few seconds, then turned to look at Alvin and sighed. “You've got some problems with walking, right, Al? I can carry you, no problem.”

“But you said you'd help me find my mum!”, cried the boy.

“And we will”, said Freed. “I can locate her with my runes, that won't be a problem.” There was it again, the faint spark of hope in Alvin's eyes. “But I need details about her, for example her name, and her age. Something to identify her by.”

“Can you do that? Find her?”

“If it's something with runes, he can do it, believe me”, said Bickslow.

“You can tell me what I need to know about your mother when we walk towards Aconite.”

“I don't want to go home without her.”

“But you can't stay here either, right?”, said Bickslow. “Hey, I know you just wanna make sure she's safe. I get that. I'd want that, too. But she's a huntress, right? I bet she's just out there, kicking some beast-ass herself. And we'll find her, promise. But if that beast comes at night, and you're not at home, wouldn't she be worried that _you_ might not be safe?” 

And then, as he reached out to ruffle the boy's hair, Freed knew he had convinced little Alvin to be responsible.

  


\---

  


As planned, Freed spent their detour to Aconite with asking Alvin questions about his mother, while the information he received was immediately processed to figure out a conditioning for his compass spell. The little boy, who seemed to find riding on Bickslow's shoulders unexpectedly entertaining, mentioned that ominous beast again and again in his answers. The thought alone seemed to upset him greatly, and the more Freed heard of it, the more he understood that whatever that beast was, it was apparently a viable threat to Aconite. 

Which left open the question why they even went there, and why they had so recklessly promised to find Alvin's mother. Freed internally hoped that the woman would simply be at home, or in the village, and that Alvin had just overreacted. Then, they would simply return the boy to his mother, and be on their way and hopefully leave the forest behind before night had entirely fallen. If push came to shove, Freed could still use his barriers, though he had to admit that he wasn't particularly keen on meeting this beast. 

Maybe they should just stay in Aconite for the night; the beast was apparently no threat during daytime. “It comes at night and runs through the village! Uncle Nuncio says the beast kills one of his sheep every night, and some of auntie Ellenor's roosters, too. And it runs down the fences”, had Alvin said. “And mum says it kills game, too!” 

Freed had not dared to ask for human victims. Even if it was just a big, wild animal, it was still targeting a specific village, and as far as he knew, that was at least a little uncommon.

Aconite lay at the border of the forest, and the sky had already turned red when they reached it. Freed's opinion on the gravity of the situation changed again as he saw that Alvin hadn't been exaggerating – the whole village was encircled in a tall, wooden wall that seemed like a recent construction. And there was a gate, indeed, and it was closed.

“No entry after dusk!”, barked someone from the wall, and Freed spotted a grim looking middle-aged man sitting on a make-shift watch tower. Then, however, his eyes fell on Alvin. “Is that...? Ellenor!”

A few seconds later, the man had come down from his tower and the gates were opened, allowing a look at the village that lay behind it. Alvin had been right with this, too; multiple houses had taken damage, fences were broken, and windows recently barred.

The guard, who was armed with a spear and wore a make-shift armour made out of a tree's bark, stood in the middle of the gate as if still blocking it. Behind him, an elderly woman in a flour-dusted apron came running towards the gate.

“Alvin!”, she cried, apparently not taking notice of the other two visitors.

Bickslow lifted Alvin from his shoulders, and the boy immediately ran for the elderly woman. “Auntie Ellenor!”

“Why aren't you with your mother? And what happened to your leg?” The tone with which Ellenor spoke reminded Freed a lot of Constance.

“Mum is gone, auntie Ellenor”, said Alvin. “She was gone when I came back home and so I went out searching for her, so that she can be here when you close the gates!”

“I've been wondering why Katya hasn't shown up yet”, said the guardsman. 

Something inside Freed twisted. That destroyed his vague hope that Alvin had simply panicked. His mother had really disappeared. 

“How about you go looking for her, then?”, Bickslow spoke up, crossing his arms on his chest. 

“That is not of your concern, boy”, replied Ellenor in an icy voice that had nothing at all in common with Constance anymore. Her eyes finally turned to Bickslow and Freed while she hoisted Alvin up into her arms. The boy appeared truly glad to be around familiar people again. “Leave now.”

“What?”

“I beg your pardon, but we promised Alvin that we would search for his mother”, said Freed. “We are both wizards, and I know a spell which will help locating Miss.... Katya.”

“It's too late for that”, said the guard and gestured towards the sky. “Night's nearly there, time we close the gates for today. Nobody comes in after nightfall, not even Katya.”

“But mum...!”

“Alvin, how about you come home with me”, said Ellenor loudly, and suppressed Alvin's renewed struggling. “I will patch your trousers, and you can eat with us. Your mother is surely safe.” Against the protests of the boy, she kept him closer and turned around on her heels.

Bickslow had his fists clenched and Freed suspected he had something to say to that. But Ellenor, while already leaving, spoke quietly over her shoulder: “Make sure the two don't enter.”

The guard followed without hesitation and turned the tip of his spear towards Freed and Bickslow. “You heard her. Leave. The gates have to be closed.”

“Yeah, because of that beast”, drawled Bickslow. “So you're leaving us outside, together with Al's mum. You're really welcoming, you know that?”

“We don't take in strangers”, said the guard. He thrust forward his spear, making Bickslow step back against his will, and Freed's hand moved towards his rapier. “More trouble than they're worth.”

“What will you do about Miss Katya?”, said Freed.

Another thrust, another step back.

“She's the huntress, she'll be fine”, said the guard. He put his spear down, took a step back himself, and someone else closed the gate.

It fell shut before Freed and Bickslow as the sun vanished behind the horizon.

“I can climb that wall, you know!”, shouted Bickslow. “No problem!”

“Leave it”, said Freed calmly, but he understood the frustration. Whatever that beast was, for the people of the village, the threat seemed real. “We need to decide quickly.”

“Decide what?”

“Do we look for Alvin's mother, or do we run?”

“That's not even a question.”

“Agreed.” 

It wasn't that Freed desperately wanted to confront the beast, but somebody had to do something. He could still use a barrier in the worst case.

It was too late to lament how they had gotten into this, and maybe, he should have been more afraid. But he drew his compass runes in the ground nonetheless. It pointed them deep into the forest.

“Let's hope we find her quickly”, Freed said as they entered the forest once more. “If the beast really targets the village, there is a chance we don't encounter it if we leave it behind. But we have to be on our guard.”

“Let's hope that beast likes sheep better than humans”, replied Bickslow and broke into a mild laugh. “You know what? It's really never boring around you.”

  


\---

  


In the thick of the forest, the dusk had already turned into night. It was dark, and felt oppressively silent apart from the uncommon noises of crickets and other small insects and their own footsteps. 

Freed went ahead, Bickslow followed him in a close distance.

“You know all those stories where kids go into the dark forest alone and get eaten by wolves or witches?”, Bickslow said after a while. “And then comes along a hunter and saves them?”

He didn't sound frightened at all, quite the contrary. When Freed looked over his shoulder, he actually found his friend grinning.

“Of course I do”, replied Freed. “My nursemaid read me fairy tales when I was a child.”

It was time to renew his compass spell, so he stopped and wrote runes into the ground with his rapier.

“Bet she wouldn't like us pulling a stunt like this one.” It was a bit alarming how intrigued Bickslow sounded at the idea of upsetting Freed's nursemaid.

“No, she wouldn't, I'm certain. But technically, we are here _searching_ for a huntress. And we are armed; well, I am. That isn't the same as in the fairy tales, and should increase our chances.”

“If she hasn't been eaten by wolves or a witch”, said Bickslow easily. “But if we make this a fairy tale, I want that gingerbread house.”

“Of course you do”, muttered Freed, now concentrated on finishing his runes. 

The completed circle he had written down around himself glowed in a violet light. Freed carefully looked for its exit that would be directed to where his target was located. “This is odd.”

“What?”

To make sure he had not made a mistake, Freed searched the whole circle again, looking for the exit, but found it at the same place again. “It points almost into the direction we have just come from.”

“She's moving, then.”

“Yes, but...”, said Freed. He stepped out of his circle and erased the runes on the ground. “The compass has given us the same direction for a while now, and now she is suddenly behind us? She must be either very quick, or we must be close and have already passed her.”

“Well that's a good thing, isn't it?”

“It should be”, said Freed. He couldn't help the slight insecurity that had crept into his voice. Something told him they should be careful now. There were no signs of a beast so far; no fleeing animals, no howling. Just crickets.

They went back into the direction Freed's runes had pointed them. Bickslow tried to strike up another conversation once or twice, but Freed had grown less communicative. He had to be on his guard, their adventure was risky enough as it was. After a while, Bickslow's attempts at talking ceased, and the world grew quiet.

Their slightly altered route lead them to a clearing were the trees stood in enough distance so that a bit of moonlight fell through the leaves and made the forest seem more blueish than black. Freed chose this as another spot for a new compass. It lead them back again to where they had come from, almost like in an attempt of a zig-zag-pattern.

They followed this new lead as well, but the back and forth did nothing to calm down Freed's inner tension. There seemed to be no sign of another person close; no rustling, no footsteps. It was all silent.

Minutes went by before Bickslow raised his voice again. “Uhm... Freed?”, he said, and that he sounded careful, too, was just a bit alarming. “I think I... I see someone.”

Freed turned around to find his friend looking not quite straight ahead. Bickslow had taken off his glasses a while ago to help them search, though the range of his eyes was, after his own experiences, limited.

“You _think_ you see someone?” His choice of words was not lost on Freed, either.

“It's kinda weird... like... it's half see-through, but it's a soul, a real one.” He pointed towards a particularly thick tree about fifty metres away from them. “Over there.”

“What do you mean... half see-through?” 

Bickslow shook his head, his eyes still fixated on where Freed supposed he saw the soul. He looked fascinated, his eyes emanating the pale, eerie green of his magic. “I've never seen something like this. Let's check this out, it's probably just Al's mum.”

He had already nearly gotten into motion when Freed held him back with an outstretched arm. “Wait. Let's---”

But then, a growling suddenly echoed through the forest, brutally breaking the quiet. It made Freed's toenails curl.

“Shit”, muttered Bickslow, his eyes widening in horror. 

Freed saw nothing in the direction in which he looked, but he heard something; footsteps or something similar; heavy and fast, very fast.

“It's not...”, Bickslow started again, but never finished. “Oh crap! Run, Freed!”

In the blink of an eye, Bickslow had turned around and ran back to the clearing, Freed on his heels this time, and not a second too early.

He had finally caught a glimpse at the something in the distance at the thick tree. That something had sharp white teeth, light fur splattered with what was probably blood and eyes that seemed to glow yellow – and it came nearer. Fast.

Freed could have really given meeting the beast a miss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> High time for some action :)


	6. The Beast

Freed had stopped counting the times he had been running away from something since he had left the castle, but he had thought that he wouldn't have to any longer once his journey had become more conventional. Then again, those who played with fire usually got burned – maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to search for Miss Katya, however heroic their intentions had been.

No matter how fast he tried to run, he just wouldn't lose the feeling that whatever was following them was faster – and his backpack wasn't any help, either. The footsteps drew nearer, the sound of four heavy paws hitting the ground, breaking twigs and crumbling leaves. And then there was another noise, like the sound of a big animal's heavy breathing… a dark growling seemed to fill the air, resonated all around him; the growling of a beast.

Or a demon, Freed remembered, and the thought drove a shiver down his spine. Another growl, even closer, echoed through the trees. What had they just gotten themselves into this time – and to add insult to injury, he had lost sight of Bickslow. They needed to take measures, protect themselves – a barrier would certainly help, but the feeling of being followed, the ever nearer growing sounds of the creature with the blood-stained fur and the sharp teeth and his own exhaustion made it hard to think.

He reached the clearing again, dared to look over his shoulder and nearly found himself staring into the eyes of the beast. It wasn't even fifty meters away anymore, and it looked hungry. Freed's insides twisted very painfully as terror spread through his limbs. Still, there was no sign of Bickslow, so Freed simply ran straight ahead, crossed the clearing into the direction of the thicker forest on the other side.

He needed a barrier. And he needed it now.

He drew his rapier while running, took all his courage and stopped shortly when he had reached the edge of the forest once more. It wouldn't be an effective protection, but it would be enough to buy him time.

But as he had turned around and the tip of his sword touched the ground, his eyes fell on the beast again. Freed didn't trust his eyes initially, but it had stopped – it stood in the middle of the clearing, and it stared into the sky.

It was a massive creature, easily half a metre taller than Bickslow but at least ten times his weight. With its white and yellow fur and the dark stripes and spots, it looked like a very large crossing of a tiger and a leopard, its facial features were undoubtedly feline. Its fur was splattered with blood, the same that dripped down from its sharp, pearly white teeth. Whatever it was didn't matter – that it was apparently distracted right now was a good thing and gave Freed time to prepare a barrier. 

"Freed! Over here!“

Freed had barely started writing when Bickslow's head appeared a few metres away. He was hanging upside down from a branch of a massive tree that stood close. Freed hastily wrote down a weak barrier, and moved over to the tree, keeping the beast in his peripheral vision. It reminded him of the watchful looks his former tutor's cat had sometimes given him. Alert, even when distracted by something, but ready to jump into action. Fortunately, some of the branches were low enough for Freed to climb them.

“Give me your backpack!“, whispered Bickslow.

Freed had no time to ponder on his foresight, just fought his way through the thick underbrush and pushed the item in question into his friend's hands when he reached the tree. Then, he jumped, grabbing onto one of the branches. But the beast was so large, and it would reach them sooner or later should it find them here, which it probably would; just a jump would be enough and they would meet those claws up close.

"We need to get higher up“, said Freed. "It will find us here.“

Bickslow, who had hoisted the backpack up onto his tree branch, didn't react immediately. His gaze had wandered back to the clearing as well, and now he stared at the creature below them wide-eyed. 

Freed had already started climbing into the higher branches. The beast's attention shifted again. The sky didn't seem to interest it anymore. Now, it rather looked like a very big cat who had lost sight of its prey and prepared to reconquer it. "Bickslow!“

Bickslow finally snapped back to attention, and jumped with ease to a higher branch himself. "What the hell is this thing?“

"Not a tiger, though it looks like one.“

A dark, angry growl echoed over the clearing as the beast sniffed the air. It was very close to finding them, there was no doubt about it. It was a cat observing two mouses.

Bickslow snorted softly, and when Freed looked over to him, he found him staring again. "It's… I don't know if it's an animal, Freed. I… it has the half-see-through soul that I saw in the forest.“

"What do you---“

Freed had kept his eyes firmly on the clearing; a shiver ran down his spine as the beast's eyes now met his. It had noticed them.

"What do you mean?“, asked Freed. This situation didn't need to get even more dangerous and complicated, but he still needed to know. 

"That thing has a soul that I can see, that's all that I mean. I've only ever seen human souls. And that's weird, really weird“, replied Bickslow, scanning the higher branches for a better hiding spot. "Also 'cause it's such an odd soul.“

Freed didn't like the implications, but he couldn't deny them either: if that creature looked like an animal, but had a human-looking soul, was it…?

The creature started running again, was soon thrown against the barrier, but it didn't help much. It was just a small barrier, anyway; the beast simply ran around it, not even wasting a second try to get through by force. It appeared remarkably intelligent for an animal. Then again, maybe it was something else entirely.

Its yellow eyes were glued to the boys – it was due time they came up with a plan.

Bickslow climbed up another tree branch, but Freed doubted that it would help. He could try to hit it the creature with a paralysing rune. But it had gone down to all fours now, and it was quick on its feet for a creature that size. It easily and elegantly moved through the underbrush now, its tail sticking up through the ferns and bushes as only a vague hint of its position. They needed to do something, anything… another barrier, maybe. Lock the creature away, and flee. Freed‘s eyes fell onto another tree standing close by, and then, he had an idea. 

"Can you jump to that oak to your right?“, he said. 

Bickslow barely looked over before he nodded. "No problem.“

"Good. Do you trust me?“

Bickslow raised both brows, staring right onto Freed's forehead. It left an unpleasant shiver in Freed's neck. "I'm not gonna like this, right?“

"I don't think we have much of a choice. We cannot sit here forever“, Freed replied. 

A shaking moved through the tree, still careful, but it made the leaves rustle and the boys alert that the creature had reached the foot of the tree. It was quickly followed by a heavier one, and the frame of the creature emerged from the underbrush as the beast threw all of its weight against the tree. Freed had to grab onto the trunk to not lose his balance.

"I can erect a barrier“, said Freed tersely. 

Bickslow didn't lose any more time. In a heartbeat, he was up on his feet. The creature at the bottom of the tree thrust its weight against it another time, and Bickslow struggled, but kept his balance. He didn't look down or back when he jumped, just at his target, yanked his legs forward while in the air and grabbed onto a lower hanging tree branch of the oak to their right. 

The creature had behaved like Freed had expected it too, its yellow eyes following the distraction. It lurched forward, its hunting instincts awakened, towards Bickslow who swung back and forth on the other tree to steady himself. Away from Freed, who didn't feel very good about himself at the moment, he knew this was risky and it was not quite correct to not warn Bickslow. But it had to be done.

Freed's breath became stuck in his throat when the creature jumped up on Bickslow's tree like a spitting cat, its sharp claws slashing through the air where a second earlier Bickslow's legs had been. But in a last swing, Bickslow had hoisted himself up on the branch.

He looked agitated, to say the least. "You're making me the bait?!“, he shouted over.

Freed felt something like a rock in his stomach making it impossible to answer. He owed it to his friend to make this quick, so he pushed his hair away and opened the Eye of Darkness. It wasn't pulsing so much right now, it was dark and he hadn't used it in a few days. But now, he knew he needed to.

Bickslow on the other tree made no attempts to climb higher, though, not even as the beast jumped up another time. Instead, a grin ghosted over his face and he had a look around. From the corner of his eyes Freed saw him jump onto a different branch of a slightly lower height. "Come and get me, kitty cat!“, he cried.

The creature jumped up again, Freed quickly drew a rune and aimed.

A second later, the creature froze in the air and fell down like an oversized rock. Bickslow's ear-splitting laughter echoed over the forest immediately. "Genius!“

Freed wasn't certain if it relieved him to see Bickslow in such good spirits, or if it not rather confused him. "I'm sorry you had to do this, but you were better suited for the distraction“, he explained carefully.

Bickslow just shrugged and laughed some more. "Makes sense to me, but you could've told me. Came a bit as a surprise.“

"There wasn't enough time and I thought… never mind.“ He didn't know if he would have taken it that lightly to be chosen as bait, at least not without a discussion.

He turned his attention to the barrier he had promised Bickslow now, climbed down from the tree and wrote the runes down in the ground around the creature. It had to be a very strict barrier, he still had no idea what the creature actually was.

Bickslow had jumped down from his tree himself, was lurking closer to the creature now. He looked as if he wanted to prod it with a stick and see if it was still moving, like the fishermen's children at Lake Saffron poking the fish their parents had caught.

"Is it dead?“, he said in an interested voice.

"No, I paralysed it. I will lock it in a barrier now. We should go back to the village and tell them about this.“

"Why, they'll just kick us out. Or won't even let us in.“ Bickslow was lying on the ground now, pressed flat on his stomach, locking eyes with the creature. "What is it with your soul, kitty cat“, he muttered.

"If this is the beast that torments them, then they might want to send someone to take care of it. My runes will not stay in effect indefinitely. This won't be a permanent solution.“

"Let them mind their own business“, Bickslow said, unusually cold. "We only came for Al's mum.“ With a last look into the eyes of the creature, he stood up again, stretching his shoulders and neck. "Speaking of her, we gonna continue finding her?“

Freed didn't think it wise to continue as if nothing had happened. He finished the barrier on the ground. It would be the sensible thing to acknowledge their action as well-intended, but risky, and involve more people. And if this was really the beast Aconite was so afraid of, maybe Miss Katya wasn't even in danger anymore, and the people of the village had no reason to not help with a searching party.

He would discuss this with Bickslow on their way, though. It was better they left for now.

  


\---

  


They had a bit of a discussion about where to go. Freed had insisted that they at least went back to the clearing; something there had made the beast stop before, so it seemed like the safest place at the moment.

It didn't sit well with Bickslow to pause their search for Miss Katya, the promise they had made to Alvin seemed to matter a lot to him. It mattered a lot to Freed, too. Honouring his words and promises was a part of his own moral codex, and he kept to his codex. But that didn't mean that he was going to do something unreasonable. The premises of their situation had changed; now that the beast was captured. It even appeared safer now – given that they knew what they were up against and had already dealt with it. Still – they had just physically experienced that their mission was noble, but foolish. 

"Come on, Freed – what should happen now?“, Bickslow said loudly. They had stopped in the middle of the clearing, Freed had set his backpack down and was thinking. "You made short work of that thing, and we were so close to Al's mum!“

He had a point when it came to the last aspect. They really had been close, according to the compass runes. But then again, it seemed like a more reasonable option to go back to the village, to tell the people about the captured beast. It was tormenting them, as well – and now that it couldn't move, it just made sense to tell the people that they were safe for now, give them a chance to decide what to do with the creature. On the other hand, could they even be sure that the creature was the beast in question? He had assumed it so far, but they hadn't found the beast close to the village…

"Bickslow to Freed, somebody there?“ Bickslow's voice tore Freed out of his thoughts. He had come closer and Freed hadn't noticed it; his face was now only a few centimetres away from Freed's, who jumped back, startled at the intrusion. Bickslow had his hand raised in a fist, looked like someone who wanted to knock at a door. 

"We should have thought about this in more detail sooner“, Freed replied once he had brought distance between himself and Bickslow. "It seems unreasonable to ignore the people of Aconite in this. They should get a chance now to deal with the beast on their terms. We should go back.“

"Without Al's mum?“, said Bickslow. He crossed his arms on his chest, his eyes narrowed. "If she's really that close, why aren't we just going there, pick her up and then go back?“

Another time, options rotated through Freed's mind, and finally, he decided to give in. "Alright. Let's go to where the runes last pointed us on the other side of the clearing, and put up another compass spell. We see where Miss Katya went and decide how to go on from there.“

Bickslow looked immensely satisfied when they got back into motion. From the other side of the clearing, it only took them a few minutes to get back to where the beast had seen them. The lack of straight paths through the underbrush lead them to a slightly different spot, if Freed's sense of direction didn't trick him, even closer to where Bickslow had spotted the beast.

Freed prepared another compass spell when he found they had went into the forest far enough, Bickslow had a look around. While Freed was still writing, something seemed to catch his interest and he went a few steps ahead.

"Hey, I think I…“, he said from a few meters away. His initially enthusiastic tone vanished when he continued. "… found something.“

Freed, meanwhile, had finished the compass spell and searched for the right direction. When he found it, he had to repeat the procedure again to believe what it showed.

"Look at this“, said Bickslow, coming back to Freed's position, something in his hands that looked like a bundle of fibres. Freed was half-distracted by his own findings, though. 

"She moved again“, he said quietly half to himself, thoughts rotating through his mind, but nothing seemed to make sense.

"To where?“ 

"To where we came from, exactly in the same direction“, answered Freed.

Bickslow caught on fast. "Shouldn't we have seen her?“

"My thoughts precisely“, Freed gave back. He gathered up enough concentration to look at the items in Bickslow's hands. "What is this?“

"Found it at the large tree over there.“ Bickslow's voice was heavy as he handed the fibres to Freed. They had first seemed reddish brown to Freed, but at closer inspection, it were actually the light beige remnants of a thick rope. The red colour stains on it had a different origin. "It's blood. There's more on the bark of the tree.“

"Someone must be hurt“, Freed concluded, though it only made half-sense to him. “But why… what about the rope?” 

"We need to find Al's mum“, said Bickslow forcefully, and he didn't sound as if he had the patience for another discussion. 

Freed wanted to agree, his heart told him that Bickslow was right. His mind warned him to be cautious, now more than ever. He observed the rope closer. "The blood isn't quite fresh though. It already began to dry.“

"That matters? Injury is injury. Come on, let's go.“

"Was there something else? A trail, maybe?“

A little suspiciously, Bickslow nodded over to the tree where he had found the rope, Freed followed him. Bickslow seemed to exude an aura of impatience now, while Freed inspected the area. But indeed, he found something worthwhile, a trail of blood leading deeper into the forest, though away from where the compass had lead him. It was tiny, though. Freed followed it up with his eyes as far as the he could look in the thick of ferns and grasses. He seemed to catch a glimpse of something a few steps ahead again.

It turned out to be the body of a small animal of sorts, bitten by something large. Very much to Freed's discomfort, only a pair of long hairy ears identified it as a rabbit. The body was so mutilated that it could hardly be called anything else than a bloody pelt.

But it didn't lead them anywhere new, so there was no help to it, they had to go back to where they had come from if they wanted to find Miss Katya. 

But then, everything happened very quickly. Freed wanted to turn around to Bickslow and tell him they'd leave, but before he could raise his voice, something jumped out of the bushes a few metres ahead; a large, white and yellow something that let out a low growl. Freed was pushed to the ground by the force of the impact, landed hard on the side and felt something sharp in his shoulder.

"Freed!“, shouted Bickslow. Freed couldn't see what he did, couldn't concentrate; the pain in his shoulder was sharp and burning. The only thing that was still coherent in his mind was that the beast shouldn't have been able to get to them.

The weight on his body vanished as the creature jumped up again, hissing and spitting like a cat. Still, Freed could hardly move. He heard Bickslow cry out, wanted to look up and do something, but he only managed to touch his burning shoulder. It was bleeding, hardly visible in his red overcoat, but his hand was damp with blood when he took it away.

He could still use his left hand, and Bickslow would need his help. One agonising move after the other and accompanied by the screams and growls, Freed tried to free himself from his backpack while still on his side; his head was spinning, and his legs felt heavy. He wouldn't get up with his backpack still on. 

The creature must have been sure that it had immobilised the first mouse if it concentrated on the second now.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Freed managed to peel himself out of the straps of his backpack, rolled onto his stomach. His right hand felt numb, and when he had straightened up, he nearly lost his balance. The world seemed muted, as if he was looking through milky glass. He was still losing blood, he had to do something about his shoulder.

Bickslow was faring a bit better with the beast, it appeared. Quick on his feet as he was, he had evaded the creature so far, was running and jumping around, trying to get onto a tree, it seemed. If Freed's tired eyes weren't misleading him, though, Bickslow limbed, his face twisted in pain. 

When he saw Freed standing, he shouted: "Run, Freed!“

Freed ignored it, instead, pushed the hair out of his face again. With his left hand, he wrote another paralysing rune, but his thoughts weren't focussed, and his head was hurting. The rune missed its target. He started to feel very warm, and his right hand very cold.

He immediately prepared another rune. Bickslow had managed to get onto a low branch of a tree, but not high enough. The creature jumped again just as Freed had finished his writing, and his rune missed another time. Instead, the beast finally landed a hit on Bickslow.

For a moment, Freed's heart seemed to stop beating as the creature wrestled Bickslow down to the ground, its hissing mixing with Bickslow's screams. All Freed could think of was to ready another paralysing rune, but he didn't want to think of what might have happened to Bickslow.

He needed to aim right this time, started writing; fully concentrated and blocking out every other thought. This time, he was sure he would hit.

But his rune missed another time as the creature was suddenly thrown back by force, dashed past Freed and crashed through a tree, only stopping when it hit a second one, a good twenty metres away. It probably wouldn't get back up that quickly.

When Freed turned back to where the creature had been, completely astonished and even frightened, he saw what – or better who – had turned the tide in this fight.

Next to Bickslow's frame on the ground stood the cloaked man from Jonquil, Gildarts Clive of Fairy Tail, his face twisted in anger and his fist stretched out in a fighting pose. 

On a tree behind him leant Lagrunge of Quatro Cerberus. "Well, well, well! What do you know? Looks like you're in over your head, boys!“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lesson of the day: Don't play with fire if you don't want to get burnt.


	7. The Huntress

“You two are either very brave, or very stupid”, said Lagrunge as he observed the claw mark on Freed's shoulder. He was still wearing his sunglasses, but above their edge, Freed saw him frown. He remembered someone else not too long ago saying the same thing to him, he had dismissed it back then, but tonight, he wasn't sure he didn't agree. “Or both.”

“Come to think of it, those two often lie close together”, he heard Gildarts Clive reply. The cloaked man had gone to where the beast was lying and was inspecting it, making sure it was still unconscious. “But those kids are simply stupid.”

Next to him, Bickslow grunted. Much to Freed's relief, his fall down from the tree had caused him nothing but a bump on his head, backache and a few scratches. He was pressing a compress against the reopened wound on his leg, but seemed fine otherwise. Lagrunge seemed to be a sort of magical healer, he had sprinkled a few drops of an awful smelling liquid onto the wound.

Freed himself had no energy left to reply anything to the older men, his head was still spinning a bit and his shoulder was burning and pulsing in an odd rhythm.

“Looks clean”, muttered Lagrunge. He took out the same small flask that he had used on Bickslow's leg and put a few drops now on Freed's shoulder. It immediately started burning horribly. “Still not sure you're safe, though.”

“I beg your pardon, what do you mean? Safe?” The situation was disconcerting all on its own, Freed didn't need any vague assessments to make him feel even more uncomfortable.

But Lagrunge didn't answer. He took a second compress from the duffel bag Gildarts Clive had been carrying, and pushed it into Freed's hands. “Here. You know what to do.” Then, he stood up and looked down at the two boys. “We're not done here yet, so don't even think of going on the lam.”

Lagrunge went over to the beast and his companion, leaving Freed and Bickslow on their own.

“You okay, Freed?”, said Bickslow. He sounded quiet and a bit tired. Freed didn't hold it against him, he felt the same. Their short excursion into being heroes had not quite worked out the way he had hoped it would.

“More or less. I'm feeling dizzy. What about you?”

“'More or less' sounds kinda fitting”, Bickslow replied. “Could've gone without getting close and personal with that thing, though.”

“It shouldn't even have been here”, said Freed, allowing questions and disappointment at himself colour his voice darker. “The barrier I used was very strict. It did not allow any living creature to pass it. I even paralysed the creature before!”

“It dug itself out.” Both Freed and Bickslow looked to the side to see Gildarts Clive moving over to them now, while Lagrunge was still inspecting the creature. “Must've figured out that the barrier didn't connect over the ground, I think. At least we found a nice little molehill on the other side of the clearing next to a Jutsu Shiki barrier.”

Without much ado, the man sat down opposite of Freed and Bickslow. Freed thought back to what they had talked about in Jonquil, about that they both had had a funny feeling when first meeting Gildarts Clive. Considering how he had punched the beast right through a tree without breaking a sweat, their concerns seemed legit. The man was quieter now, but Freed decided it was better to stay on his guard. Bickslow, too, eyed the man suspiciously.

“Digging? I didn't think... of that”, Freed had to admit. He felt like he had just found out that he had made a careless mistake in an exam. The thought that the creature might dig itself out had never even occurred to him. But it was possible, certainly, even though the creature was very large; he also had had the feeling that it still possessed intelligence. “And the paralysing rune probably just lost its effect...”

“Do you two even know what you've been messing with?”, asked Gildarts Clive. He sounded less accusatory than Freed would have expected.

“Not a normal tiger, that's for sure”, muttered Bickslow. He looked over to the unconscious creature. Lagrunge was currently strewing the area around it with a fine white powder in what seemed like a defined pattern. “Not even an animal, if you ask me.”

“A magical being of sorts, most likely”, added Freed. It sounded like the most logical assumption in his mind.

“Don't tell me you two are _experts_ ”, Gildarts Clive said, snidely amused.

Bickslow let out a grumble, but did nothing else. He kept his eyes focussed on the creature, the green glow intensifying. Involuntarily, Freed lifted his hand to make sure his hair covered his eyes again, though the feeling wouldn't leave him that it was in vain and that the older wizards already knew about both their magic. It would have made him hope for information under different circumstances.

“You're probably gonna call me nuts, but that creature's human, at least a part of it. Whatever that means.”

Gildarts Clive looked over to Bickslow now, and for a moment, it seemed to Freed as if both were doing the same thing: reading souls. The man's eyes weren't glowing, though, but seemed alert and somewhat amused, anyway.

“Not bad, tattoo-face. It's a cursed human”, called Lagrunge over. The area around the creature had started glowing in a faint, pale red light; hardly recognisable if Freed wasn't directly looking at it. “A weretiger.”

A broad grin appeared on Gildarts Clive's face. “So the riddle's solved, perfect.” He looked over to Lagrunge as well. “Okay, oh wise old man – how're we going to get rid of it?”

“Get rid of it?”, repeated Freed in a question. The thought alone that it was a human that had transformed into such a horrific creature – while it explained certain things, it nevertheless drove a shiver down Freed's spine. Whoever that was probably had no control of what they had done all those nights, and Freed knew just too well how that felt. He didn't wish it on anybody.

“Of course! What do you think we're here for? Some old frump in Aconite hired us to rid them of their beast-problem.”

“Well they hired you, to be honest”, said Lagrunge. He came back to where the other three were sitting now, as well. “You're just too stupid to tell a poodle from a werewolf and needed my help.”

“And you'd be cat food without someone around to save your beard”, said Gildarts Clive casually.

With the way the discussion went, Freed was reminded of their fight back in Jonquil. This time, it at least seemed as if it wouldn't escalate, as Lagrunge simply broke into a laugh. “True”, he said easily, but then, his tone grew sharper again as he turned his attention to Freed and Bickslow. “Now about you two. Take off the compresses.”

Freed did as he was asked and much to his astonishment, the wound below the compress had already closed. It looked as if the healing process had been accelerated by at least a few days. But before he could say anything to explain the situation, Lagrunge threw some of the white powder at them. Much to Freed's renewed surprise, it turned out to be salt.

“What the hell!”

“Need to make sure you're not cursed”, said Lagrunge curtly. He was strewing another pattern around the boys, a pentagram.

“Cursed...?”, said Bickslow, quiet again and his anger dying down.

“Werecreatures spread their condition by bites and scratches, and both of you had direct contact.”

“Wouldn't we have turned already, if the condition would have been passed on to us?”, countered Freed, recalling what he had learned about werecreatures. They turned at night, under the light of the moon, which also affected them like an intoxicant. That at least explained why the beast had stopped on the clearing; it had been paralysed by the moon. Looking back, the solution appeared so simple.

His statement earned him a grin from Lagrunge. “They turn for the first time when the first moon after their contraction rises. And that means, smarty-pants?”

Freed ignored the insult, Bickslow laughed out. “The moon has already risen tonight”, Freed answered, as if back in one of his lectures. “The first moon rising would be tomorrow.”

“100 points for you, smarty-pants.”

But that also meant he and Bickslow both could potentially suffer the same fate as the beast. His hand went up to his magical eye again, as if he wanted to make sure it was still covered. It didn't pulse right now, didn't feel like a foreign body so much because it was dark. But he had felt his eye's power as he had used it earlier.

His movements didn't go unnoticed, as both Bickslow and Gildarts Clive looked sharply at him.

Then, the ground below him and Bickslow started glowing faintly blue as the pentagram closed, and Lagrunge had raised his hand like in a one-handed prayer.

It lasted only a moment. “Stupid and lucky”, said Lagrunge, relaxing his posture and falling down onto the ground, too. “Both very much not cursed.”

Freed let out a breath he hadn't realised he had been holding; and Bickslow did, too – though louder, not trying to mask his relief.

This, too, didn't escape neither Gildarts Clive nor Lagrunge.

“Now that that's settled, let's talk shop”, said Gildarts then, and the atmosphere turned colder. It had just started to seem more relaxed. “You two thought it was a good idea to go out finding the huntress with a beast roaming around?”

“How do you know that?”

“When we tried to get into Aconite, a little boy ran up to the gates making a ruckus that his mum was missing, and that two of his friends had gone out to find her”, said Lagrunge. “And apparently, his uncle, too.”

“They never mentioned that they missed more people than just Miss Katya”, said Freed.

Bickslow snorted. “You surprised?”

“Katya?”, asked Lagrunge.

“The boy's mother, the huntress. Her name is Katya.”

“Tell me more”, said Lagrunge. He sat cross-legged on the floor, and bend forward now, into Freed's direction.

Freed did as he was asked, though he found the wizard's interest in Alvin's mother a little suspicious. “She is the village's huntress, as I said. She has a son called Alvin. He is probably the boy you met. Alvin doesn't know his father. Apparently, Miss Katya disappeared in the afternoon, after she sent her son to get bread. Alvin ran into the woods to find her, and Bickslow and I found him and brought him back home.”

“Did that Alvin – by chance – tell you anything else that sounded suspicious?”

While he had seemed patient so far, Gildarts Clive turned his attention to his partner now. “You mean...?”

Lagrunge swayed his head, not really nodding, and neither denying. Freed found it all rather confusing.

“Well, Alvin said that his mother had went out all the other nights to hunt game and that she couldn't today because a man called Nuncio told her the stocks are full.”

“She went out knowing there is a creature roaming around targeting her village, and instead of defending it, she hunted game?”

The way Lagrunge phrased that sentence, it seemed to Freed indeed like a very stupid move. He hadn't considered it from that angle before.

“And did you say 'Nuncio'? Wasn't that the other guy who was missing?”, added Gildarts Clive.

“And the guy who sent us out to investigate those footprints on the fields in the morning”, said Lagrunge. “Yes.”

“But that was a dead end... oh.”

At the same time, things started to make sense to Freed as well. Everything fitted, from Miss Katya's odd disappearance to the strange behaviour of his compass spell. “Blimey, that never occurred to me...”

Alvin would surely not like this.

“Would someone care to explain things for the stupid kid?”, said Bickslow loudly.

“It's simple”, replied Freed. He wouldn't like this, either. “Miss Katya... she's the weretiger.”

From the corner of his eyes, Freed saw a grin moving over Lagrunge's face. Bickslow, meanwhile, looked caught somewhere between confusion and anger. 

His eyes went over to the unconscious beast on the ground, Freed's following him. It was hard to imagine that the massive creature was actually just a person. For a moment, Freed thought back of his own transformation back in the castle of his father. He still had no idea how he had looked, what kind of powers he had possessed. He wasn't sure if he really wanted to know. Not now, certainly.

But as far as he knew, the transformation into a werecreature was triggered by contracting the condition through contact with another werecreature. And that had to mean that there were more, at least one, in the proximity. But this one was Miss Katya, he was nearly completely sure of that.

“Come on, Freed, this isn't... why would she attack her own village then?”, Bickslow said forcefully. “I mean, they're bastards, alright, but that's not a reason to tear them apart,... I guess.”

“Werecreatures are driven by strong emotions”, replied Lagrunge, “Fixations on certain things or people, for example. Maybe she wanted to get to her kid, as gruesome as the consequences would have been if she'd have succeeded.”

“That doesn't...”, Bickslow said, but Freed had the feeling that he was thinking, and couldn't find many arguments why it wasn't at least a possibility. “That's so... muddled. And what about that other guy? Nunci-something?”

“I don't know. Let's hope the best”, said Freed gravely.

“Oh cheer up, you two. I haven't brought Lagrunge here to deliver only bad news and witty one-liners. He's got a thing up his sleeve to solve this, right?” 

“Well I'd be a damn bad curse expert if I hadn't.”

A few minutes later, they all stood close by the weretiger, who was still unconscious. Lagrunge had explained that the salt weakened her, which was why she wasn't recovering as fast as she normally would. He had called it the ‘poor man's alternative for silver, mostly forgotten and sadly underestimated' – and Freed had, indeed, never heard of it before. It was working, though, apparently.

“There's two possibilities now: If she's the source of the curse, an easy way won't cure her. We'd need to figure out the reason why she's cursed and then I'd be able to prepare counter measures. If she has just contracted the curse after being bitten or scratched by another weretiger, there's a simpler solution.”

Freed looked over to Bickslow, who seemed a little as if this whole situation was getting more complicated to him by the minute. It was indeed very muddled, Freed had to admit that. They certainly had been in over their heads, that was very clear now. 

“You mean there could be a second one around?”, said Gildarts Clive. 

“Could be. Would be a whole lot easier if she could tell us if she's the source or not, but that's not going to happen any time soon.”

“Couldn't we wait until the morning? I can trap her again and make sure the ground is covered this time. Then we wait until she transforms back and ask her if anything suspicious happened to her in the last days before the attacks on the village started.”

“She isn't going to remember much, if anything at all”, replied Lagrunge. “But it sounds like the best solution. You okay with this, Gildarts? This is, after all, still your job.”

The man in question had an intense look at the werecreature, then, he shrugged. “Sure thing. Do your magic, kiddo. But do it right this time.”

  


\---

  


Freed made sure that his runes were forming a secure prison for the weretiger this time, laid them down on the ground, as well. He was writing them under the watchful eye of both older wizards, while Bickslow wasn't paying them much attention. He was leaning back onto a tree a bit to the side, staring into what he could see from the sky.

As soon as he was done, Freed joined him. 

“Hope you can fix this thing before Al gets wind of it. I guess that'd be a shock for the little guy.”

“You don't mind if we stay to see this through?”

“'Course not”, said Bickslow with a snort. “We've come here in the first place to help Al, right? And remember – _you_ wanted to join a guild before winter. I'm far less picky there.”

Freed thought to know Bickslow well enough to realise that he sounded less enthusiastic than Freed would have expected, but he said nothing about it. They were already approaching midnight, and they hadn't really rested for... probably about eight hours. They were both tired, that was surely all. He still had some provisions, it would be wise to eat something now, then organise a watch just in case and then catch some sleep.

Lagrunge and Gildarts Clive were both keeping closer to the weretiger, discussing something. A part of Freed wanted to be with them, see if he could help and speak to them about the watch. He weighted it against food and sleep in his head, almost reaching the conclusion that helping was more important than eating right now as Gildarts Clive came back over to them. Lagrunge, meanwhile, took a few flasks from his pockets and dedicated himself to the study of the creature again.

“No need to interfere when he's running his strange tests”, the older wizard said casually as he sat down with the two boys. “Says he's trying to find out more stuff about our kitty cat that might help puzzling together the incoherent information we're going to get once she's back to being fully human.”

On his last words, he was looking directly at Bickslow, who raised his brows. Freed couldn't help feeling Gildarts Clive was aiming at something. And slowly, the mild confusion in Bickslow's face lit up into what looked as if he had understood something.

“ _Fully_ human”, he repeated and turned to Freed with a big grin. “She's part human, part beast, that's why her soul is half see-through! Dammit – that actually makes sense!”

It sounded indeed quite reasonable to Freed – who of course had no idea what souls usually looked like.

“Souls, huh?”, Gildarts Clive then said easily. His mild grin looked a bit as if he, too, had come to a realisation. “Seith Magic, then. Wasn't sure back in Jonquil, that strange feeling in my neck could've just been the Figure Eyes. But you just gave yourself away.”

Bickslow stared at the older wizard slack-jawed. Freed had lost the thread this time, too, he feared – or hadn't he? Had Gildarts Clive just casually identified Bickslow's eye magic?

“Oh was that supposed to be a secret?”, said Gildarts Clive as neither of the boys replied anything. “Sorry, but you're kind of obvious. Had a lot of fun figuring your magic out, though.”

“Se... Sei... uh, what magic are we talking about here?”, Bickslow finally stammered. “I mean, that other thing. Not the Figure Eyes. Heard about that before.”

“You don't know?” Gildarts Clive seemed a little dumbfounded. It was odd how serious he could be in one second, and how goofy in another – and how nothing seemed to remain of that mildly threatening feeling Freed had in his presence then. There was even less of it palpable as he now broke into a barking laugh. “Pathetic! What kind of wizard are you if you don't know your own magic?”

“I'm an acrobat, geezer!”, Bickslow shot back, half on his feet before he settled for just shaking his fist instead. “Not a walking dictionary; no offence, Freed.”

Gildarts Clive answered by just laughing even louder.

“Encyclopedia”, Freed said quietly. A part of him hoped Bickslow would get a new perspective on his own habit of random laughing now. The other, far larger part, started to realise that they were on the brink of getting to know more about their eye magic. And that at the oddest of times, at the oddest of places. “A dictionary won't help you much at all.”

“Well, in your defence”, said Gildarts Clive when he had finished laughing. He still grinned rather toothily, though. “Both are pretty rare. Never seen someone with Figure Eyes before.”

“But you've heard of them and are able to identify them without assistance?”, asked Freed. Bickslow's short bout of anger dissipated now, too.

“You hear a lot if you get around a lot. Can't remember where I've heard about it, though. It's probably been a few years.”

“So what about that other stuff you've been talking about – that Seith... Magic?”, asked Bickslow now. Freed thought to see that he was mildly excited.

“You can see souls, can't you? Human souls?”

“Yeah. Nearly always could. I thought my eyes...”

“I'm not an expert on this, but being able to see souls is usually a sign of Seith Magic. In your case, Human Possession, to be specific.” For a short moment, a dark cloud seemed to move over Gildarts Clive's face as he scrutinised Bickslow, who simply looked confused. It disappeared quickly, though. “You don't know much about magic, do you?”

“Acrobat”, repeated Bickslow. “I mean – I kinda get how I can end up with magical eyes. Birth defect, I don't know. But how can I have magic I've never heard of? I mean, I didn't train like Freed or something.”

“It's not just what you're taught”, Freed said now. “While every being with a talent for magic can theoretically learn any type of spell, people are born with an affinity for a specific type of magic. I, for example, have an affinity for Jutsu Shiki, it has been running in our family since generations. If that affinity is strong, we learn with less effort, or sometimes – with no effort.”

“What your friend explains is true”, said Gildarts Clive. “Probably what happened to you, as well.” Freed couldn't help feeling he sounded a little relieved. “Listen... I'm probably not the right one to tell you more about it, I'm not really the type of person for that. Master Makarov will be of more help, surely. Also because of both your eye magics.”

“I'm not surprised you know about mine, too”, admitted Freed.

Gildarts Clive almost snorted. “Violet iris, black eyeball? Yeah, kind of hard to miss that.”

“And that Master Makarov-guy, who's that?”, asked Bickslow.

Freed already knew the answer, remembered what his brother Coen had told him. “Makarov Dreyar is the guild master of Fairy Tail, of course”, said Gildarts Clive with a big grin. He tugged at his cloak, revealing a bare chest with a symbol branded on the right side – a stylised fairy, if Freed wasn't mistaken. “Best guild there is, don't care what Lagrunge mumbles into his beard about the Quatro Cerberus losers.”

“Your master is a wizard saint, I have heard?”, asked Freed. He opted to leave out the part where Coen had said that Makarov Dreyar had a 'screw loose somewhere'. It appeared unfitting.

“Sure is, though he doesn't really care much for the title, I guess”, said Gildarts Clive easily. “But I suppose what's more important is that he's the best wizard I know, and the wisest. Your eye, uh... Freed? I've never seen anything like it before. It must be very, very rare. And believe me, if Makarov doesn't know something about it, nobody in Fiore does.”

Hearing this felt discouraging more than anything else; because for one reason or another, Freed trusted Gildarts Clive's judgement at least a little after what he had just told them about Bickslow's eyes. Maybe he had no other choice, no matter if Fairy Tail was a rowdy guild; maybe they were still their best shot at the moment.  
“We can still go to Bosco if that Makarov-guy doesn't know much”, said Bickslow casually, Freed could hear him grin. He realised that he himself was frowning and had kept silent for too long to be inconspicuous. “Coconuts, remember?” 

Freed just wanted to reply something when Gildart Clive's face turned from relaxed to observant.

“You feel that?”, he called over to Lagrunge, who had stopped his activities with the flasks and Miss Katya (whose fur was now glowing in a faint greenish light) as well.

“Yeah.”

“What?”, said Bickslow.

Freed took a moment to concentrate and focus. He didn't see anything, but if he listened closely, he meant to hear voices that grew louder. “Someone's coming”, said Freed, stood and turned around.

The voices where coming from the direction in which he thought the village lay.

Bickslow had followed him, his eyes growing bigger as he, too, stared into the forest now. “That's... at least two dozen souls.”

There was only one reasonable explanation – the village people had left Aconite. But why, when they had been so adamant about not even letting people in? Why would they leave their sheltered village only a few hours later?

Gildarts Clive didn't waste neither a word nor any time on it and went to meet them. “Don't let them near Katya”, he said in a low voice that suppressed anger. It left a chill in Freed's bones. “They have weapons.”

Freed could see them now, too. The torches in the distance, heard the angry voices.  
Bickslow quickly looked over to Gildarts, then back. “They look... ruffled.” 

Freed felt the anticipation growing inside him as the people came nearer, but it didn't take long until they had reached them. It were about two dozen people from Aconite; he recognised the guard with the make-shift armour. They were carrying torches and forks and scythes, and the woman who had taken care of Alvin – Ellenor – lead them. Alvin was thankfully nowhere to be seen.

“Katya!”, shouted a man in the front. He was badly wounded, his torso was wrapped up in bandages completely and he was supported by two other men. Freed didn't have to ask who he was; Nuncio showed more than a fleeting resemblance to his nephew. “Don't hurt her, she's not doing this on purpose!”

“We know that”, said Lagrunge in a calm voice. “We're here to help, believe it or not.”

“You won't be able to help her”, said Ellenor coldly. The group had reached the point where Gildarts Clive stood, but the wizard wasn't moving. “Stand back, Clive. This is none of your business any longer. You can consider your contract cancelled.”

“I'm not going to make one step before you tell me what you're planning.”

“We can go around you”, growled the guard.

“I'd advise you against it”, Gildarts Clive said coldly. The air around him seemed to freeze and burn at the same time, and Bickslow's eyes were glued to him. 

“This has nothing to do with you any more”, said Ellenor again. Her eyes wandered towards where Miss Katya was lying, caught by Freed's runes. “She is one of ours, and we will decide what to do with her.”

“We can't heal her, Ellenor”, said Nuncio. He looked as if walking and even standing was getting more difficult to him by the minute, cold sweat on his forehead. “And ropes won't contain her. We need to get her to the caves as I told you, she can transform safely there...”

“I'm sorry, Nuncio”, said Ellenor, but Freed didn't really believe her. She gave a small wink to the village guard. “But the village comes first, and as your Elder I need to make sure everyone is safe. And your sister is a thread.”

Nuncio had no time to protest as a club hit his head and he slumped to the ground. “You will understand in time, and Alvin will need you. He has nobody else."

"Bastards!", shouted Bickslow.

The air around Gildarts Clive had frozen solid, and behind them all, the beast roared in her cage.


	8. The Curse

Freed turned around from the people of the village as if he had been struck by lightning.  
As if her previous encounter with Gildarts Clive had never happened, Katya, the weretiger, jumped up in Freed's cage of runes, hissing and growling; yellow eyes gleaming dangerously. With all her might and weight, she threw herself against the barrier. When she was thrown back and landed on the ground, she didn't waste a second before she tried it again.  
A murmuring went through the group of people from Aconite; fearful and tense. The weretiger had just thrown herself at the barrier again, her eyes focussed on the man who had knocked out her brother; a predator targeting her prey.  
“Now you see into what beast this curse has transformed one of ours”, said Ellenor loudly, like a stern teacher explaining a difficult task. “There can only be one solution, regrettable as it may be.” 

Freed swung around again as the murmuring grew louder and the weretiger threw her claws at the barrier spanning over the ground now.

“Don't even think about it”, growled Gildarts Clive. “She is one of _your_ people!”  
“She is a monster”, Ellenor replied with disdain. “She even attacked her own brother after she transformed. How long will it be until she attacks Alvin in her crazed state? I have to protect my people, this is the task I have been given, the burden I must bear. And I am willing to pay this prize.” 

Behind his back, the weretiger howled another time as the barrier below her feet wouldn't budge. Freed felt nearly sorry, but at the same time, torn – he knew that in her current state, Miss Katya was a danger to everyone, but what Ellenor had just said, how far these people were willing to go...

And that little moment of distraction, of being torn, proved to be enough: when Freed turned his attention back to the scene, some people shrieked as the guard in the armour made of bark charged at Gildarts Clive, and was immediately thrown back and crashed against a tree.  
It didn't take more than a heartbeat for the other people to join in the fray now that one of their own had opened it. None of them stood even the slightest chance of success. Bodies were quite literally flying through the air as Gildarts Clive repelled every attack with nothing more than a simple wave of his hands. It weren't yet the flames lashing out, Freed simply knew it. This wasn't even a fraction of what Gildarts Clive was capable of, and even this was breathtaking, though frightening. And absurd, in a way; bizarre – how grown men were thrown through the air like dolls.  
Freed was snapped out of his astonishment as the weretiger let out a growl as if in pain. Exhaustion was setting in, the barrier wasn't moving, and digging wasn't working this time, either.  
Lagrunge, meanwhile, was moving in a quite unflappable manner through the chaos, dodging people here and there, and grabbed the unconscious Nuncio at his feet, dragged him away. It was like an alarm for Freed – he should start taking action, too. With his rapier, he could provide support for Gildarts Clive, or even better, could start a large barrier that would separate villagers from wizards.  
But then, the guard in the armour made of bark grabbed his weapon, and threw a spear.  
“I don't need to get past you”, he grumbled.  
Of course, the spear didn't make it passed the barrier either; what didn't keep the other villagers from throwing their weapons.  
“Stop it, you complete horde of morons!”, shouted Lagrunge. And he was right – while nothing came close to hurting the weretiger, it was still irritating her, making her even more wild. With increasingly hectic movements, she threw herself at the barrier, her eyes glued to her brother, who was now taken care of by Lagrunge. She was growing desperate, and it was hard to look at. 

It almost looked like a dead-lock situation – the attempts of the villagers repelled, but their spirit unbroken. It was only a matter of time though, until the villagers would be running out of weapons or would tire; because Gildarts Clive was certainly not the one to tire first.  
And they ran out of weapons fast. But they didn't run out of ammunition – one threw a torch, and a heartbeat later, the forest around Miss Katya's cage started burning.  
Freed didn't need to think twice before he knew where his place in this fight was. With autumn coming nearer and the generally warm, dry air, it wouldn't take long until the fire would spread. It would end in a disaster. He needed to be quick if he wanted to quench the flames with his magic. 

His right eye had been so... quiet, the last days. He hadn't used it much, and without the strain of exertion, the pulsing had grown less. It was easier to forget this way, easier to not remember what his eye had caused back in his father's castle. It made him wary that this idea crossed his mind as easily as it did, but it had worked before and it would again. It had to.

He wrote the runes into the air before him with his rapier, let them hit his forearm and closed his eyes when they hit. When he opened them again, it was back; the tunnel, the focus – the darkness that quenched everything that wasn't relevant right now. And the magical wings. He needed to secure the area, put out the fire.  
He hardly registered Bickslow's “Whoah!”, or that the villagers still hadn't enough of trying to get past Gildarts Clive. Freed's thoughts were so clear, like a path he only needed to follow, with every distraction being nothing more than an event to the side that he only registered, but didn't act upon. 

The fire was already spreading wildly as Freed started to inscribe the ground with runes, and only spread even faster as more torches were thrown. He flew as fast as the wings would carry him, in between the trees and the flames; around the fire, the tip of his rapier always touching the ground.  
He didn't know how long it took, hardly recognised that there was still fighting going on, that the weretiger was still howling. His only concern were the flames.  
Sometimes, he had to come back to a certain spot as the fire had spread across the borders he had drawn. But he didn't allow it to deter him from his task. He had to make sure that the flames wouldn't claim the whole forest.  
There was a loud cry from the weretiger, and it gnawed at Freed's focus. They were doing this all to protect Miss Katya from her own village and somewhere in the back of Freed's mind, he wasn't certain how he thought about this all. It appeared so familiar, that she was being held responsible for things she did while her mind was not her own. And to crown it all, the people who should... the people who should support... the people of her village, were doing nothing else than deciding that she was not more than a threat, despite everything they had shared in the past. This wasn't the way things should be.  
“She's getting barbecued, Freed!”, shouted Bickslow and broke Freed's tunnel-vision. “You've gotta do something!”  
He looked up from nearly thirty metres away to the horrifying realisation that the flames had spread into his rune-cage, had pressed the weretiger into a corner, hissing and spitting, her fur had almost caught fire. Of course, she couldn't escape.  
He needed to do something, he needed to cancel his runes, but then the weretiger would be freed and that she was angry at the villagers was a vast understatement.  
“Do it!”, cried Gildarts Clive, “Open the cage!” 

It was enough to dispel Freed's doubts. With a flapping of his wings, he was at the cage.  
The weretiger was quicker on her feet than anyone could have reacted, jumped over the flames and what runes Freed had prepared to fight the fire. And at the villagers, her fear of the flames giving way to her fury at the people who had attacked her brother. 

And just like he had repelled the villagers first, Gildarts Clive now put his whole attention to the weretiger and wrestled her onto the ground just as she was about to sink her claws into the armour made of bark and the man who wore it. 

Everything went very fast from that point. Alarmed by the rate with which the fire spread, Freed didn't think very much about continuing his barrier to suppress it or helping Gildarts Clive to subdue the weretiger. The village people shrieked and shouted, and from his peripheral vision, Freed saw Gildarts Clive fighting. It seemed as if he was holding back now that he knew she was a cursed human compared to how he had dealt with the creature before.  
Lagrunge was still taking care of Nuncio, but had not lost track of the fighting scene.  
“If you've got any suggestions, out with them now or I'll knock the kitty cat out again”, he heard Gildarts Clive say.  
“If she's not the origin of the curse, there's a chance”, said Lagrunge. “Might as well try it now that she's gotten back to her senses. Make eye contact and call her by her name!” 

“That's it?”, Gildarts Clive replied, sounding mildly disbelieving. “That's simple!”  
“For you, yeah”, said Lagrunge. “I wouldn't want to get all that personal with her right now.”  
Freed reached the starting point of his barrier again, went down to the ground and supplied it with a constant flow of magic to suppress the oxygen feed of the flames.  
And as it started to work, he had a chance to look up again to the fighting scene. The villagers were nearly all injured, some hadn't bothered to get back up, some had brought themselves out of harm's way, but all were staring at were Gildarts Clive was quite literally wrestling with the beast. He didn't even seem to use his magic, whatever it might have been. 

After a few seconds, he had the weretiger pinned to the ground, face to face with the jaws of the oversized catlike creature. She was hissing and spitting and struggling, baring her teeth at her opponent. But it was in vain.

“Your name is Katya”, Gildarts Clive said as their eyes met.  
It felt as if more than two dozen of people were collectively holding their breaths, as if a wave of silence was moving through the forest as the weretiger froze in place.  
And then, centimetre by centimetre, she shrunk, and the fur receded into her body, and where her ears had been a second ago, there was nothing else but long auburn hair now.  
It had worked, the curse was broken – there was no weretiger anymore, just a woman, bruised and with a few scratches, lying on the ground, surrounded by the people who had already given up on her. 

  


\---

  


The situation had to get through a phase of utter confusion and astonishment before it became remotely quiet again in the forest.  
The sheer incredibility of breaking a curse by something as simple as calling a name had lead to a lot of mumbling and muttering amongst the people, and to a smug grin coming from Lagrunge. Then, however, as Miss Katya had come back to her senses, her instinctive drive to look for her brother had made her struggle back to her feet, which in turn had made everyone aware that she was, in fact, naked. She didn't seem to notice, though, and Freed quickly averted his eyes. 

It apparently took a few minutes until Lagrunge had calmed her down a bit; Freed had heard her calling her brother's name and apologising over and over again. At the same time, the murmuring amongst the people grew louder.

A while later – Freed had dared to look again after someone had said, “Here, take this” - Miss Katya was sitting close to her brother half-wrapped in a coat, Lagrunge observing her injuries and talking to her about the state of her brother. Gildarts Clive stood close by, watching the villagers who were still there. Some of them looked like they felt guilty, and Freed thought they had all the right to.

Ellenor, however, showed no such emotion. She was looking at the injuries of the villagers herself, though from time to time, her eyes flew over to the other people. Gildarts Clive and Lagrunge were considered with nothing short of disdain, while Freed and Bickslow earned a milder version of that look for themselves.

After everything had started to settle a bit, Freed decided to join Lagrunge and Miss Katya.

She seemed fully aware of her former condition, and Freed supposed it was because of her brother.

“He said he would tie me up on the big oak tree”, Miss Katya said. She had kind eyes, though they were very dark. They rested on her brother now, wary. Lagrunge was dabbing a substance onto scratches on her back, the same that had healed Freed's and Bickslow's wounds before. “Said that if I couldn't hurt anyone, I just had to wait the night out. I thought he was being stupid.”

“But you still went along with it?”, asked Lagrunge. He sounded interested, but still polite.

“Well... It's not as if I had another choice, is it?”, Miss Katya said. “I wanted to go to the caves, but they're open. There was no way to make sure I'd stay inside.”

“I see.”

There was a short silence that followed. Miss Katya still looked at her brother, and slowly, her calm features drifted into sorrow. “I still know that I attacked him”, she said, her voice nearly breaking. “Every night I came to the village... I remembered them. I remember that...”

Lagrunge's eyebrows rose above his sunglasses in surprise.

“You don't need to explain yourself”, said Gildarts Clive over his shoulder. 

“No”, Miss Katya said and took a deep breath. “No, I do. I don't know if I can make sense of it otherwise.”

“Done”, said Lagrunge quietly, closing the flask with the magical substance. Almost instantly, Miss Katya wrapped herself up tighter in the coat. She looked as if she wasn't just freezing because of the cold night air.

“I only have the two of them; only my little Alvin and Nuncio”, she then said, almost so slowly that it was every word separately. “Everyone else... left us, one way or another. The thought of losing them, too... it was always there, in a way. Even when I was that... even as that creature. To think that I did that to my own brother... I couldn't...” 

Her voice failed her and she reached out for her brother, but as if fearing she could hurt him even more, she stopped and yanked her hand back.

“He's going to be fine”, said Lagrunge, still calm and careful. “His wounds are severe, no doubt about it, and he would've done better lying still than thinking a few bandages would do the trick and he could run around again just fine. And that he's been knocked out again surely doesn't help either. But he's going to heal. I only need to check if...”

“... I understand”, continued Miss Katya, suddenly sounding firmer again. Her eyes moved over to the other villagers. “I probably... infected him.”

“Might be the case, yeah. But since we can rule out that he's the source of the curse, the same trick that worked on you should work on him, too.”

“We'll see tomorrow night, I suppose”, said Gildarts Clive over his shoulder. “Might as well finish what we started.”

“Thank you.”

Quiet settled over the forest now that everyone was occupied one way or another. Lagrunge went over to help Ellenor with the wounded villagers, which lead to a bit of a row between them. Gildarts Clive kept on watching the situation with wary eyes and as everything seemed to get more and more peaceful, he went over to Miss Katya and talked to her, even managed to make her laugh after a bit.

Freed, however, decided it was time to see what his friend was doing – now that he thought about it, he hadn't heard or seen much of Bickslow in a while.

Freed found him leaning against a tree a little secluded from the other people, hands folded behind his head and staring into the sky. Freed quietly joined him and sat down, too. Now that the adrenaline was waning, he realised that he was getting tired. After he had used it again, his eye had started pulsing more intensely, something that made his head hurt a little.

“She's gonna be fine?”, asked Bickslow, but he didn't move and neither did he look at Freed.

“Lagrunge says yes, at least physically”, answered Freed. “However...”

“Yeah, I hear you.” Bickslow tilted his head to let his gaze wander towards the villagers. “Bastards”, he huffed then. “I'd hoped that Gildarts-guy wouldn't be as nice to them.”

Freed briefly thought about whether or not he agreed. A part of him rationalised that Miss Katya had been a legitimate threat, but another part, far less rational and far more emotional, agreed with Bickslow. “At least, we could help saving an innocent person.”

“Well actually, _you_ helped”, Bickslow said. There was an odd undertone in his voice that prevented Freed from feeling pleased any longer, like he had since he had extinguished the fire completely. “I just tried to get someone to look into my eyes when the fighting broke out. No result whatsoever; too much going on.”

“Yes, your eye magic is only practical when you can use the moment of surprise, I thought about that, too”, said Freed in affirmation. He had already thought about this much earlier, back on the farm complex when only his timely intervention had spared Bickslow a terrible fate.

Bickslow, however, snorted into the night air. “Thanks, buddy”, he muttered. For his standards, he seemed to be in a bad mood. Considering their recent victory, it appeared unusual.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that Bickslow hadn't physically entered the fight? “But you... you helped, too”, said Freed, trying to find something that would lift Bickslow's spirits again. “If you hadn't warned me about the fire entering Miss Katya's cage, she might have been burned.”

And it was true, and without a doubt shameful. But Freed had been so focussed on encircling the complete fire with his runes, and it had happened behind his back... and still, he thought of it as at the very least partly his own fault.

Bickslow didn't answer in a few seconds, but he still didn't look at Freed. “Say, buddy”, he said a bit later. “You've heard about that Seith Magic something I apparently have? Are there some... I don't know. More useful spells for fighting?”

“I've never heard of it prior to today”, Freed answered truthfully. “I'm sorry. But Gildarts Clive said it's very rare. I was going to study advanced and rare magic only in a few months. I bet...” He had to sigh involuntarily. He had said this particular sentence so often, had thought that particular thought so often, it almost became tiring that he still continued to do so. “I bet Hal and Coen would know, though.”

“Your brothers aren't here”, said Bickslow, and he sounded oddly final. “Gotta make due with what I've got. I'm gonna ask that Gildarts-guy about it.”

And with that, he stood up, leaving a slightly perplexed Freed to sit under the tree alone until he decided to follow, which didn't take very long.


	9. Destination Magnolia

Bickslow never got to talk to Gildarts Clive, though.  
With most of the people of Aconite taken care of, Ellenor declared that now was the time to return to the village. When she invited Miss Katya – rather coldly, but she did – to come along, things became... a little rough. 

After the invitation was made, Miss Katya was on her feet in one fluent, graceful motion, her eyes gleaming dangerously. When she said: “And how do you imagine this playing out?”, Freed had the feeling she had wanted to say something much different, and in a far less restrained way. 

“You will come back with us, of course, resume your duties”, Ellenor replied curtly. “We will leave Nuncio with the wizards, their solution apparently works. He is allowed to rejoin us once it's made sure that he is not going to transform. I have decided to spare you any persecution because of the damage you've caused to the village.”

“You have the gall”, said Miss Katya quietly. She had her fists balled, and when she continued, her voice grew louder and louder. “You _actually_ have the gall to tell me to come back with you; to leave my brother behind whom _you_ knocked out because he dared to risk saving me before trying to kill me? An hour ago your people threw _torches_ at me!”

Everyone in the proximity was staring at her now, even those who seemed to prefer looking at their feet feeling guilty.

Ellenor, however, was not impressed. “You were a danger to everyone, we needed to act. Now that you are cured, you may return.”

“And you may go and get stuffed”, said Miss Katya fervently. A loud murmuring went through the crowd; Gildarts Clive, Lagrunge and Bickslow cheered. “I'm going to go back, but only _to get my son_. And then I'll take him and my brother and leave.”

It sounded very final, supported by Miss Katya not even leaving Ellenor a chance to say anything in return. She just wrapped the coat around herself and fastened it with a belt, and turned around to Gildarts Clive.

“Can you help me with Nuncio?”, she asked, with such determination that it almost sounded like an order. “I think I need to get out of here.”

“At your service, my Lady”, returned Gildarts Clive. He sounded a little overly dramatic, grinned rather broadly and made a short bow. Then, he went to pick up the still unconscious Nuncio, while Miss Katya was already walking past the other villagers.

“Think about it”, Ellenor said without turning, she was still standing still like a figure made from ice. “You have a place in this village. We are your people.”

Miss Katya stopped, her fists still balled. “I remember, Ellenor”, she said. “I remember everything. I remember that Nuncio needed to convince you to hire wizards instead of mercenaries, I remember that you promised to the village that the beast was going to be killed. Can you, just for a second, imagine how it felt like sitting next to people who wanted to kill a creature I knew I turned into every night? I understand that you need to do what is best for the village. But I was part of this village, too. Didn't _I_ deserve your protection?”

She didn't stay to discuss, though, but took up walking away again, Lagrunge and Gildarts Clive following her, the latter carrying her brother. Freed and Bickslow exchanged a glance, and wordlessly agreed to follow, as well.

The atmosphere seemed to become a little gloomy as the last voices of the villagers fell silent and the last glimpses of torches vanished behind the trees. Nobody had made any attempts of following them, it was probably for the best.

There was something admirable about the way Miss Katya had handled all of this, Freed had to admit. She had known about her curse, trying to hide it, probably trying to live with it – amongst people who she knew wished to bring an end to the beast that haunted their village. And still she appeared so composed – at least compared to the panic Freed had felt after his own involuntary transformation and the realisation that he had pushed his tutor out of a tower window. Maybe part of it was a facade, he had noticed Miss Katya's rigid posture becoming sloppier the further they left the villagers behind, and her shoulders dropping. She had to be incredibly tired.

The way back to Aconite would doubtlessly be a quiet one, contemplative of what had happened, and paying the price for the exertions of this long night.

At least, that was what Freed assumed.

“Hey, Gildarts”, said Bickslow rather loudly and made a few long strides to catch up with the older wizards.

Gildarts Clive only looked over his shoulder with raised brows. He was a very tall man, but even he didn't have to look down very much to Bickslow, who had his hands shoved into his pockets and tried to appear casual, but not quite managed to.

“About that magic I supposedly have---”

“Not supposedly, I'm pretty sure you have it. I've got some experiences with magic, you know”, intervened Gildarts Clive, and Lagrunge next to him made a sound like an amused coughing.

“Yeah, whatever”, muttered Bickslow. “It's just... can it do anything else than seeing souls?”

Freed's eyes went to Miss Katya, but she only looked over her shoulder shortly and didn't seem to pay them much attention otherwise.

Gildarts Clive, however, scrutinised Bickslow intensely before he answered. “Yes”, he then said plainly. 

Bickslow face lightened up with excitement. “Anything useful for fighting?”

“That depends on you”, Gildarts Clive gave back. He still mustered Bickslow, it slowly became rather obvious. And a bit disconcerting. “Magic isn't just about fighting.”

“Says the guy who walks straight through walls”, said Lagrunge quietly. Now, Miss Katya definitely threw a confused look over her shoulder. “And solves situations by punching at them until they literally crush.”

“Not everyone can talk enemies to death, wimp”, replied Gildarts Clive casually.

Lagrunge snorted into his beard. “Damn man, wish I could. That'd be really useful.”

“Can we come back to my question?”, said Bickslow. “That magic, can you tell me more about it? I mean, that Seith Magic thing must be good for something other than seeing souls.”

Gildarts Clive sighed, just a little bit. “Sorry, kiddo. I'm not the one who should tell you about this, think I said it before. Go and talk to Makarov.”

Bickslow seemed taken aback for a moment, and Freed remembered that Gildarts Clive had also said that Makarov Dreyar would possibly know more about his eye magic. “That's a thing with you adults, isn't it? Saying 'someone else will tell you later when you're older'?”, said Bickslow indignantly. 

Before Gildarts Clive could reply something, though, Freed accelerated his pace to catch up with the others, too. “Do you think Makarov Dreyar would help us?”, he said.

Gildarts Clive only broke into a laugh. “Help you? Of course! He's got a thing for helping kids with weird magic. You'd be... number ten and eleven he's taken in, and that in the last few years alone and not counting Laxus.”

“Take in?”, said Bickslow.

“Number ten and eleven?”, said Freed.

Lagrunge, however, only sighed and shook his head. “Story time”, he muttered, and caught up with Miss Katya, probably to start a conversation with her on his own.

A big smile appeared on Gildarts Clive's weather-beaten face and then he, indeed, started to explain. “Well... There's Natsu, the Fire Dragon Slayer. Turned up on Fairy Tail's doorstep about a year ago. Must be... eleven, I think. But I don't think he knows himself, the boy probably can't even count.” Freed would have taken it for an insult, but Gildarts Clive laughed as he said those words, in a rather fond way that reminded him just a tiny bit of Constance. “Gray's about the same age, he's an Ice Make wizard. And a stripper, probably inherited that from his teacher. Then there's Erza, she's a bit older, very talented, and very strict. She uses Requip Magic. And Cana, of course. She's taken up Card magic a while ago, I'm curious where this goes. Think she'll be doing great! And then... the Take Over siblings, they just joined a few months ago. Mirajane, Elfman and Lisanna. Mira's one of a kind, that Satan Soul Take Over is pretty rare---”

“Satan Soul?!”, Freed said. It sounded... rather frightening.

“Yeah, she takes over souls of demons and transforms into them. She'll be badass in a few years, mark my words”, replied Gildarts Clive. He sounded utterly casual, though his words made Freed's insides twist.

_She takes over souls of demons...?_

Bickslow looked at him from the side, eyes wide open and eyebrows raised. He saw the similarity, too.

“Elfman tries himself at Beast Soul Take Over, last I heard. Makarov thinks he's making progress, I haven't seen it so far. And Lisanna is learning Animal Soul Take Over. Mira is about your age, Freed. The other two are a bit younger. Levy's there, too, but I haven't seen here last time I visited. She spends most of her days in the library. And then of course”, said Gildarts Clive. His tone had become a little conspirational, and he grinned now quite mischievously. “There's Evergreen. Joined last month, just a few days before I left. She's got Stone Eyes.”

“You mean... is this... eye magic, too?”, said Freed, trying not to give into the excitement too much before he had received confirmation.

But that didn't take long. “Yep”, said Gildarts Clive. “And – you guessed it – rare. You see, we've got experience with brats like you two.”

Left speechless by the sheer amount of information, _useful information_ , dropped casually in a conversation and the prospect of meeting yet another person with eye magic, all Freed was still able to do was to look over to Bickslow, who looked just as astounded.

“That good enough a reason to drop by Magnolia before we go to Lamia Scale?”, said Bickslow.

“I would certainly think so.”

  


\---

  


When they reached Aconite about half an hour of mostly quiet walking later, Freed had still not quite gotten over the fact that there was someone else with eye magic in Fairy Tail, that there was _also_ a girl with magic that involved the transformation into demons. He had heard about Take Over Magic, in fact. It had been covered in one of his more recent classes on Magic. But after the incident at his father's castle, he had been so focussed on his own eye magic that he hadn't thought of the similarities between his transformation, his botched spell and forms of Take Over Magic. It was certainly an angle he shouldn't discard in his studies, and if Fairy Tail had already experiences with this form of magic... maybe his first impulse of not going to Magnolia first hadn't been wise.

Now, however, the sky had already started to turn lighter again as the improvised wooden wall of Aconite appeared in front of them.

The gates were closed, but with only a wipe of his hands, Gildarts Clive made short work of them – after what Freed thought to be his magic, there was, in fact, nothing left of the gate apart from a pile of splinters the size of common matches. It was a good thing he hadn't used his magic on the villagers or Miss Katya earlier.

Miss Katya herself lead them to a small hut in the outer periphery, moderately close to the gates. It was sparsely furnished; just a larger bed and a smaller one, a niche with a stove, a wardrobe and a table with a few chairs. The walls were decorated, though; with antler racks and heads of other animals. A particularly large bear head was displayed above the fireplace.

On Miss Katya's orders, Gildarts Clive placed the still unconscious Nuncio on the larger bed while she went to the wardrobe and then retreated behind a half-wall that created a little visual cover.

“How long will it take until my brother is ready to move again?”, she said. She sounded rather composed and very business-like.

“I can only accelerate his own healing, not magically heal his wounds”, said Lagrunge. He was already taking out various flasks again and mustered Nuncio through his glasses “My tonics should heal his superficial wounds pretty quickly, but he's got a few broken rips, too. Those will take longer. Even if I speed it up with my magic, it'll be a few days.”

“A few days”, said Miss Katya, and she sounded just a little bit disdainful. “Well, it can't be helped I think.”

Lagrunge meanwhile had strewn the pentagram of salt over Nuncio and was performing his magic. Unlike with Freed and Bickslow before, though, the symbol started to glow faintly red. “And we need to lift his curse”, Lagrunge said matter-of-factly. “Shouldn't be a problem, though.”

“So I... I really infected him”, said Miss Katya. She came around the corner again, fully dressed in soft suede trousers, a green tunic and a suede vest. Part of her composed exterior seemed to break, and her eyes grew noticeably wet. “I... I'm so... I should've left the village much sooner.”

“If I may ask, why didn't you?”, asked Freed. 

“Because of Al, of course”, muttered Bickslow in return. He had fallen down on a chair at the table, doing his best not to look at anyone too closely. Now, however, his eyes darted up to Miss Katya and then back to the table.

Miss Katya rewarded him with a small, sad smile. “I couldn't leave him. So I said to Nuncio that maybe we needed wizards to solve this and he suggested it to Ellenor when we held council. I thought that way... we could solve all of this somehow without me having to... having anyone figure it out.”

“But your brother did”, said Gildarts Clive.

Miss Katya nodded slowly. “He realised that it was odd for me to go out hunting game so often. The last few days I went out to the forest at dusk, taking my gun with me. I hid it, then spend the night as that creature, and hunted in the morning after I transformed back. I thought it was a good alibi, and in that way, Alvin would spend the nights either with Nuncio or Ellenor. But Nuncio... I think he just counted clues. Knows me too well, but he's my twin, of course. He came to me in the afternoon, said he knew and had an idea how to solve the problem with the beast.”

“Speaking of which, any idea where you contracted it?”, asked Lagrunge. 

“Not here. I was bitten by a large tiger-like creature a few weeks back when I was hunting in the mountains. I think I came back with the … condition.”

“You'll need to tell us more about it tomorrow”, said Gildarts Clive. “Someone needs to take care of that beast, too.”

Miss Katya only nodded mutely. There was a short, slightly oppressive silence before she braced herself again and said: “Alvin. He should be with Ellenor's daughters. I think I'll go and fetch him before the mob returns. You can stay, if you want to. It won't take long.”

While Miss Katya was gone, Freed sat down at the table, too. Bickslow was already holding his head up with his arms, and now that they weren't walking or talking much anymore, he seemed tired. Freed felt it, too. Their little adventure had nearly taken them the whole night.

When Miss Katya returned, she had Alvin wrapped in her arms, and the little boy was sleeping peacefully, tightly embracing his mother. She put him to sleep in his own bed and continued to just sit at its edge, stroking his hair as if she had already forgotten about the other people in the room.

Bickslow had also fallen asleep in the meantime. 

“Well”, said Lagrunge and cleared his throat. “I've had a look at your brother again. He should get back to it in the morning. And I guess we better take our leave.”

“We'll be back in the evening, don't worry about your brother”, added Gildarts Clive.

“Of course. Thank you”, said Miss Katya. She stopped focussing on her son, but wasn't standing up. “What... what do I owe you? Or, your guilds?”

“Nothing”, said Gildarts Clive very quickly, and very determined. “You didn't hire us, your village did.”

“You're going to make that old bat pay”, said Lagrunge with an amused undertone. “Bet she's not going to like it.”

“Bet I won't give a shit”, returned Gildarts Clive. The men shared a glance and a grin, and then went towards the door. “What about you two?”

Before Freed could react and wake up Bickslow, though, Miss Katya said: “The boys can stay here until the morning, no problem.”

“Thank you very much”, said Freed. It was indeed a rather fortunate turn of events that he didn't have to move again. The table had begun to look rather comfortable if he could rest his head on a pillow or something comparable.

“You're heading for Magnolia in the morning, then, I guess?”, asked Gildarts Clive.

Freed hadn't made plans if they would leave in the morning or stay, though. “I'm not sure... but... probably. If we're not needed, of course.”

“Nah, got the situation pretty much under control, thanks”, answered Gildarts Clive in what Freed realised in his half-sleepy state was a rather sarcastic voice.

“Well... if that's the case...”

“Send Makarov my greetings”, said Gildarts Clive. “See you sometime, then.”

“You're also always welcome in Quatro Cerberus, of course”, added Lagrunge. “Think about it.”

“We... might”, said Freed. And then, both men nodded a last time and left the hut.

A few minutes later, Miss Katya brought Freed two pillows and two blankets, one of which she threw over Bickslow. 

“Sorry, we don't have another bed”, said Miss Katya.  
“Not a problem. We're travellers, anyway. And your kindness to offer us a place for the night honours us.” 

A little smile appeared on Miss Katya's face. “When I went to pick Alvin up, he was awake for a few moments, you know. And asked if Bickslow and Freed had found me, because they had promised him that. That's you two, isn't it?”

Freed felt a little warm on the tip of his ears. “Well... yes. This is Bickslow, and I am Freed. We met Alvin in the forest, you see. He was...” Was it really wise to speak about Alvin's undertaking to find his mother, though?

“... looking for me, I guess”, Miss Katya finished his sentence, taking the words right out of Freed's mouth. “I really wasn't at my best in the afternoon.”

“He's brave, I think.”

“Has that from his father”, said Miss Katya, both fond and a little sad. 

“From his whole family”, returned Freed. It earned him another, larger, smile.

“Thank you, both of you. For making sure my son is safe. And I'm sorry that I attacked you back in the forest.”

“You weren't yourself”, said Freed, playing down the whole issue of the fighting with the beast.

“I hope you're right.”

The meaning of her words stayed with Freed while he tried to find sleep, his head resting on a pillow on the table and his body wrapped up in a second blanket. It hit close, very close, to what he thought and feared about himself.

But maybe, in Magnolia, in Fairy Tail, he would find more answers.


	10. Fairy Tail

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a.k.a The chapter in which I indulge in cameos...

The next morning, Freed and Bickslow did as they had told Gildarts Clive.

Freed wasn't entirely well with this decision considering the situation with Miss Katya and the villagers hadn't totally cleared up yet. Nuncio was still infected, and while Freed and Bickslow prepared to leave, a few villagers returned from their nightly encounter in the forest. Ellenor was not amongst them, but the tension that seemed to fill the air, the villagers' odd looks at Miss Katya, both judging and guilty at the same time, were hard not to pay attention to. Bickslow noticed it, too; he took off the glasses a couple of times, his eyes jumping back and forth between the people, looking like he was just reading a very thrilling novel.

But in the end, Freed had to come to terms with handing the situation over to Gildarts Clive and Lagrunge, who were nowhere to be found but had left a note for Miss Katya. Bickslow then let Alvin ride on his shoulders for a few minutes before he and Freed said goodbye to the boy. Then, they left Aconite behind.

The next few days were quite uneventful, they travelled through forests, little villages and a few bigger towns, stopping here and there when they found a wizard guild. Despite his approval of visiting Fairy Tail before Lamia Scale or any other major guild, Freed still thought that having a look at whatever other guild he and Bickslow came close to would be beneficial. 

Bickslow didn't agree with this. Whenever Freed suggested to visit a guild, he seemed to grow more and more impatient, until he even refused to come along with Freed entirely. “I don't know why you're bothering with this, buddy”, he had said when they had stopped in a little town about halfway between Aconite and Magnolia. It housed a guild called Siren's Call. “It's not as if any of the other guilds we've looked at were any good, and we're going to join Fairy Tail, anyway.”

“I have never said that I intended on joining Fairy Tail”, Freed had answered, which had prompted a low sigh from Bickslow. “I just said that I want to visit them soon, considering they probably know something about our eye magic. But we're limiting our options if we---”

But Bickslow had just rolled his eyes and jumped onto a close tree. “Yeah, whatever”, Freed had heard him say. “I'm taking a nap. Wake me up when you're done considering.”

After that, Bickslow refused to set a foot into another guild, always stayed outside and made a few remarks on how useless he thought the visits were. Freed initially wanted to be angry at him, but soon found that he, too, was getting more and more agitated the closer they came to Magnolia. It was getting more difficult to not just leave everything behind and go straight to see Makarov Dreyar the more he thought about what Gildarts Clive had said. Options or not, if the answer to one of their questions – namely the answer about Bickslow's magic – lay in Magnolia with Fairy Tail, how were the chances that the answer to their other question about Freed's magic lay there, too?

And if there was another person with eye magic, did this not even increase those chances?

But Freed also found it hard to simply ignore all those other guilds scattered across the land of Fiore. Not because, and that was something Bickslow always seemed to get wrong, he thought these guilds were fascinating. It felt more like a he was obligated to the problem of finding a guild: the more options they had, the better they could eventually decide; and while they were already in the respective towns, why not take a look. On the other hand, none of the guilds actually brought him any further, and so, he was rather glad that the map and the list from the Sorcerer magazine told him that he and Bickslow only had about two days until Magnolia, and that until then, they wouldn't come across any other guild.

Soon enough, the boys were camping in the wilderness for the last time while in the far distance to the east, a faint glow in the night sky hinted at the existence of a larger town – Magnolia. They had prepared a campfire and ate in silence, each engrossed in their own thoughts.

Freed was contemplating everything that had happened so far since he left his father's castle for the first time, wondering whether the answers to his questions could really be found in Fairy Tail. And what his brother Coen would say if Freed, of all the possible guilds, joined the one that apparently caused the most trouble to the Rune Knights.

“You think I'd be able to make a bit of money in that guild, too?”, Bickslow suddenly said, looking down on the remains of his share of food. It was hard to see his face, his overgrown hair covered up his eyes, but his mouth wasn't curled up in his usual grin. 

“Of course, why not? Joining a wizarding guild usually entails taking jobs and thus, making money. I thought it was a reason we agreed on joining in the first place”, Freed replied, a little taken aback.

But Bickslow let him no time to ponder on the reason for his odd question. “Can't think of a job where seeing souls would be of use”, he said scathingly. “Unless I become a fortune teller, but that's just nuts.”

“Is it still because of Aconite, because you couldn't help in the fight against the villagers and the fire?”, Freed said, and Bickslow just let out a low grunt.

“Wasn't really good for anything back there”, he muttered.

“Remember what Gildarts Clive said: Not all magic is made for fighting, and it doesn't have to be”, Freed said.

“Easy to say if your magic can do everything”, Bickslow said, then remained quiet.

Freed couldn't help feeling a little warm around the ears and wondered if this was a reason for his friend's impatience these last days. He didn't dare to say anything even if he wanted to, the truth was he knew nothing more about Bickslow's magic than what Gildarts Clive had told them both. 

A few moments later, Bickslow raised his voice another time, just as focussed on the remains of his food as before. “I hate owing people money, you know”, he said in an oddly strained voice. “So let me make this clear: Once I get my hands on money – I won't steal it, don't panic – I'll pay you back. For all the food, I mean.”

“You don't have to”, Freed said quickly. He hadn't considered that this could be a problem at all; they had needed to eat along the way, he possessed money and instead of letting Bickslow steal his food, Freed had provided them both with rations for their travel; bought them in every town they visited. He had noticed that Bickslow wasn't fond of it, but he hadn't thought it was because of this.

At Freed's last words, Bickslow suddenly looked up again, the fire lighting up his face totally. He didn't wear the glasses, focussed on Freed's forehead and a cold and hot shower washed over Freed's back. Then, Bickslow sighed, and his lips curled up in a small grin. “You're filthy rich, buddy, you don't get this.”

“I'm not rich”, Freed said sharply. “I am exiled, did you forget? However rich my family is, I have no access to that money, and what money I possess now I will have spent at some point.”

“Okay, okay”, Bickslow said, raising his hands in a placatory gesture. “Sorry about that. But... the money I owe you. I'll pay it back.”

Freed blew out a bit of air threw his nose. “You are technically a thief. It's odd hearing something like that from you.”

“Well, I do have principles”, Bickslow said, and with a little bit more of his usual levity, shrugged his shoulders. “What about you, though? Are you ... nervous? This is gonna be something else than Cassandra's Eye or Siren's Call.”

Now it was Freed who mustered Bickslow. “Of course it will. We are going to meet a Wizard Saint tomorrow, if we're lucky and Makarov Dreyar is present in the guild hall.”

And thinking about it, it had been decidedly unpredictable that even before his fifteenth birthday, Freed would end up in the company of a former street kid at the door step of a guild known for breaking the law.

But nothing about his life had been predictable, not after his eye had surfaced for the first time. 

“You think the old guy's gonna be able to help us like Gildarts said?”

Freed stood up from the fire, took a few steps towards the east and to the faint glow in the sky. If Makarov Dreyar could answer at least a few of his questions, it would be more than Freed had expected to find that quickly after leaving home. But on the other hand, the truth could sometimes be more dangerous than the sharpest sword.

“I think we'll find out tomorrow”, he said to Bickslow, chasing a wave of nervousness away. “It's probably no use to worry now.”

  


\---

  


It was about midday when Freed and Bickslow reached Magnolia. 

Second only to Crocus, it was the largest town Freed had visited so far. The hustle and bustle wasn't as overwhelming here than in the capital though, but still Magnolia seemed a busy town. There were multiple streets with shops and little market stands, and waterways with all sorts of boats and small ships going through town. Freed remembered that Magnolia was a merchant city, and true enough, the boats seemed all to carry goods of one kind or another. 

They approached Magnolia from the west, and soon found themselves on a large plaza in front of a very large and old cathedral in the centre of the town. Freed asked a passer-by about it, its name was Cardia Cathedral and no matter if Fairy Tail would be a reason to stay in town for him, Freed decided that he needed to see this cathedral up close and from the inside. It seemed a place of history, definitely worth studying. 

The passer-by also pointed them into the direction of Fairy Tail's guild hall, which lay in the north of town close to the shore of Lake Sciliora. The building was hard to overlook as the main road starting at the cathedral went straight towards its entrance. Considering that the comparatively smaller town of Clivia had housed two guilds, it seemed odd that Magnolia only housed one. But on the other hand, the guild's main building was larger than any other guild hall Freed had visited, had multiple storeys and stood in the centre of its own little plaza. And the Sorcerer Magazine had stated that Fairy Tail was one of Fiore's largest guilds, so maybe, having one large guild instead of multiple smaller ones was more accurate a description of Magnolia's situation.

“This is it, huh?”, muttered Bickslow as they reached a large staircase leading up to the small elevation the guild hall and a few other buildings were built on. “The moment of truth?”

Freed was relieved to hear both sarcasm and exaggeration in Bickslow's voice, as his own heart had started beating just a little faster a short while ago as they had crossed one of the larger waterways. 

“It certainly is quite a formidable place for a guild hall I assume, and if outer looks are anything to go by...”

But in that moment, just as Freed had placed a foot on the lowest step of the staircase, someone came rushing down the stairs so fast that Freed had hardly enough time to identify that someone as a pink-haired boy. Before neither of them could get out of the way, a voice coming from the upper part of the staircase shouted something. The boy shouted something back over his shoulder, but in doing so diverted his attention away from the stairs, missed a step, lost his balance and tumbled down the last few steps, only not carrying Bickslow off his feet because he jumped away last second.

“Oi, use your freaking eyes!”, Bickslow shouted, but the boy didn't pay attention.

He got up onto his feet fast, turned around once more with both defiance and terror in his eyes.

“NATSU!”, thundered someone, the same voice that had shouted before on top of the stairs. 

Freed followed the boy's eyes now, too. On the uppermost step of the stairs a girl stood, and Freed instantly realised why the boy was fleeing her: she was carrying a big kitchen knife, like the one that Constance had always used when slicing off meat from bones, and the expression in her blue eyes was quite... murderous. “Come back! You'll pay for this!”

She didn't waste any more time and stormed down the stairs now, as well. The boy – Natsu, apparently – just shouted back a defiant “It wasn't my fault, Mira!” before he started running again. 

Freed and Bickslow were spared no glance by either of them, but looked at each other. Bickslow, in a fit of misplaced enthusiasm, grinned rather toothily. Whatever the boy had done, attacking him with a kitchen knife hardly seemed appropriate. 

“It's the third time these last two weeks you got Lisanna hurt!”, screamed the girl; Mira, judging by the boy's words from before. “Another open knee! It's all your bad influence!”

She had just come down the stairs as well, Natsu was already a few blocks away. And while Freed thought of stopping the girl with a barrier, Natsu turned around to leave the main road, didn't look again and ran into someone.

It was a boy about the same age, with black hair and – oddly enough – no shirt. A brunette girl in an orange dress was next to him, or better, them – because almost immediately after Natsu had landed on the other boy, both had started scrambling.

“Get lost, Gray, he's mine!”, shouted Mira. 

The other girl with the brunette hair looked over to her, then back to the bundle of limbs that was Natsu and the other boy.

“Natsu and Gray, stop fighting immediately”, exclaimed yet another voice. On the of of the stairs, two other girls had appeared; a red-haired one wearing a small cuirass over a skirt, and a younger one with white hair like Mira and a wounded, but bandaged, knee. “And you, Mira, leave them alone!”

Freed now felt entirely downgraded to a spectator, but at least, Mira had let the kitchen knife sink down, turned around, and her cold eyes landed on the red-headed girl. “Of course, you're taking his side, Erza”, she said coldly, but her lips turned up into a smirk. “He's got to learn some manners!”

“Not like that!”, Erza said, and from thin air, she produced a sword and ran down the stairs now, as well.

Bickslow broke into a very ear-splitting laugh. “I like this place!”, he said, and Freed had absolutely no idea what merited this verdict. “Let's go meet this Makarov-guy, Freed!”

Apparently, the laughter had made all present children aware that there were two other persons around, and suddenly, the fighting between Natsu and Gray stopped; and both Mira and Erza stopped glaring daggers at each other. Six pair of eyes were now on Freed and Bickslow, who still laughed, one hand slapped onto his face.

“Who're you two?”, said Mira, now expectantly crossing her arms on her chest, the kitchen knife still in hand. Her eyes moved fast from Bickslow to Freed and back, narrowing on the rapier on Freed's side and the hair in his face.

“And what do you want from gramps?”, said Natsu. He was just getting up from fighting Gray, who for some reason wasn't wearing trousers any more, either.

Freed cleared his throat, stood a little straighter and quickly looked over the assembled group of children now, as well. He had noticed their names from what Gildarts Clive had told them; these were apparently all members of Fairy Tail. Indeed, most of them carried a the symbol of a fairy visible somewhere on their bodies.

Freed glanced over to Bickslow, but his friend seemed to care very little for the situation; his laughter was dying down, but he didn't raise his voice to speak. “My name is Freed Justine”, he then said, accompanying his words with a small bow. “And this is my friend Bickslow. We have come to talk to Fairy Tail's guild master Makarov Dreyar.”

“About what?”, said Gray, and Freed was certain he could make out a trace of challenge in his voice.

“That is of a private nature, I fear”, Freed said calmly.

“If it concerns the master, it concerns Fairy Tail”, said the red-headed girl with the sword, Erza. “And we are all Fairy Tail members.”

“I don't wish to speak about it out in the open”, Freed gave back. He truly did not want to discuss matters of his eyes with a group of children in the middle of the street. Especially not if some of these children couldn't be more than ten or eleven years old, it was very doubtful that they could be of any help.

“Oh we can go inside”, said Mira, but her smirk betrayed her sweet-sounding voice. “And you tell us there.”

Freed had to stifle a sigh. Nothing hindered him from simply leaving; he might want to talk to all these children, as well, but not right now.

“It's just our magic, okay?” Bickslow suddenly entered the conversation. He had the glasses firmly pushed onto his nose, but the greenish glow that always emanated from them was now noticed as the children collectively looked over to him. “We both want to ask your master some things about that. Maybe join the guild, too.”

Freed expected many more questions now, but to his surprise, Bickslow's up-front answer seemed to have been enough for the younger children. Gray and Natsu again became engrossed in fighting, with the brunette girl and the smaller white-haired girl with the wounded knee cheering for them.

The eyes of both Mira and Erza, however, stayed longer on Bickslow and both moved over to Freed afterwards.

“The master will be up in the guild hall”, said Erza then and made her sword vanish into apparently thin air, obviously, she was using Requip Magic. Freed briefly wondered if she was a good fighter and if she would be opposed to a sparring match in case he and Bickslow decided to stay. “He was talking to Laxus when Lisanna found me.”

Mira let out a snort. “More like shouting at Laxus, then”, she said dryly. With a nod of her head and a gesture with her knife-carrying hand, she pointed up the stairs. “What you're waiting for?”, she then said briskly to Freed and Bickslow. “I'm not escorting you or something. I've still got an open bill with Natsu.”

“I will not allow this!”, Erza replied quite forcefully, requipped her sword again and before Freed or Bickslow could say anything, the sword and the kitchen knife collided.

If these were only Fairy Tail's children, Freed dared not to ponder how Fairy Tail's adults would behave.

“Leave them to it”, Bickslow said easily as Freed looked back and forth between the two fights. “They're kids.”

“That cannot be normal”, Freed said. “My brothers and I did never fight like this apart from sparring.”

“No? Did that all the time back in the circus!”

They were moving up the staircase now, Freed periodically looking back over his shoulder to the other children. 

The street towards the guild hall of Fairy Tail continued on top of the stairs, but it was only a few hundred metres now. About halfway there, Freed and Bickslow were passed by a tall and heavy boy in an ill-fitting button-up shirt and a bow-tie. He was running down the street towards the staircase, shouting: “Look, Lisanna! I found a new pet, it's a newt!” And indeed, the scaly tail of an amphibian creature peaked through his large hands. He didn't pay Freed and Bickslow any mind, but Freed was now connecting dots in his mind.

Gildarts Clive had spoken about siblings; and if 'Mira' was short for 'Mirajane', and the smaller white-haired girl was her sister, the boy that had passed them was probably Elfman, their brother. Freed had meant to speak to Mirajane about her magic after what Gildarts Clive had told them. Maybe he should wait until she wasn't carrying around that knife any more, though. 

From all the people Gildarts Clive had mentioned, they had already met a great part. But Evergreen apparently hadn't been amongst them; if she wasn't the brunette girl who had stood next to Gray. Freed doubted that, she didn't seem like she possessed eye magic; no hair had been covering her eyes and she hadn't worn glasses. Unless, of course, this Evergreen was able to turn her magic off at will. 

They were standing in front of the guild's building now; a timber-framed house with a small tower on top of a second storey. The two-winged door was made out of wood, as well; stained red and ornamented with simple but elegant geometric designs. Freed and Bickslow had a look at each other, Freed nodded, then raised his hand to knock on the door as Bickslow reached out for the handle on the other half.

Neither of them had a chance to do what they had intended to, however, as suddenly, the door was pushed open from the inside with such force that it knocked them both down. Freed's own descent was stopped a little by the weight of his backpack and he only stumbled, but Bickslow landed on his behind and jumped back up in a heartbeat.

“Oi! That's the second time today, don't you freaks have eyes?”, he shouted.

But the perpetrator paid him no mind and just walked down the small staircase from the entry, a duffel bag slung across one shoulder and headphones covering his ears. It was a boy about Bickslow's age and height, his blonde hair standing up from his head in carefully arranged spikes. He had his eyes closed, and seemed serene on the outside, but... Freed had the distinct feeling that it was a facade. Something emanated from this boy, something intangible, something that reminded him of the way Gildarts Clive had dealt with the villagers back in Aconite. The air suddenly seemed to smell like they had just been passed by a thunderstorm, filled with too much ozone than usually.

At the foot of the small staircase, the boy stopped briefly; threw a look over his shoulders left and right; and for a split-second, his eyes met Freed's. They were just as blue and cold as Mira's.

“Sorry”, he muttered casually as he saw Freed standing there awkwardly, and Freed suddenly wished he wouldn't be wearing this bloody backpack that felt larger than he was. 

But before Freed could find the words to answer, the boy turned around and walked away in a leisure pace. He was halfway down the street towards the large staircase when Freed realised he was still looking after him, and shook his head to turn his focus back to Fairy Tail.

But Bickslow had taken off his glasses and stared, as well; his mouth hanging a little open. “Who's that?”, he said to Freed, who was getting his clothes back in order and smoothed over his hair to look presentable again.

“I don't know”, Freed said truthfully.

The afterthought he kept for himself, though: _But I hope we will find out._

  


\---

  


As soon as they had opened the door into the guild hall, Freed and Bickslow were met with dozens of different voices; old and young, male and female, but all very loud. And whatever Freed had expected Fairy Tail to look like on the inside, he hadn't expected this – something more akin to the taproom of a very large bar than anything comparable to Cassandra's Eye or the small offices of Siren's Call. 

He didn't bother to count the people sitting around dozens of wooden tables, standing around a wooden board or sitting at a bar at the other end of the room. Nobody seemed to be bothered by him or Bickslow, either; only as Freed stopped an elderly woman who was apparently waiting the tables and asked for Master Makarov Dreyar did some eyes land on the two boys.

Bickslow seemed to find this all very thrilling, his head moved quickly back and forth between the people and he seemed more attentive than Freed knew him. Freed, however, found everything to be quite loud.

The waitress pointed them towards the bar, where indeed a few stools were empty. There were two patrons at the bar, one of which was completely enveloped in smoke and talked to a third man behind the counter. The other man was older and very short, and if Freed had to make a guess, it had to be Master Makarov.

If he was being honest with himself, when thinking of a wizard saint, Freed had always imagined a very old man, so much was true. But somehow, that old man had always been taller in his mind, with a long white beard and a very dignified demeanour, maybe wearing a cape like the wizards in folklore. But instead, Master Makarov's beard was rather short, he wore an odd, striped headdress that only had a vague resemblance to an actual hat and an orange shirt, emptied a large mug of ale in one big gulp and looked more than a little displeased when Freed and Bickslow neared him.

Freed was rather sure though that he and Bickslow weren't the source of the Master's mood, he seemed to have taken as little note of them as most others around.

“This brat it going to be the end of me”, Master Makarov muttered as he slammed the mug onto the counter.

Freed found Bickslow searching his eyes, and the boys exchanged a shrug. They had almost reached the bar.

“Don't worry, Master”, said the man behind the counter and refilled Master Makarov's mug. “He's going to come around eventually. You know, teenagers.”

“How come you're the expert, Macao?”, said the man enveloped in smoke. “Your brat's just a few months old, how'd you know how teenagers behave?”

“Well, they don't stay teenagers forever, do they?”, the bartender, Macao, said with a shrug.

“So far, Laxus proves to be very resistant against growing up, and the boy's seventeen.”

Coming to a halt at the bar next to Master Makarov and the other man, Freed straightened up and took a longer breath. He had practised introducing himself to guild masters quite often in the last weeks, but talking to a wizard saint would probably be different.

“I beg your pardon, may I interrupt this conversation briefly?”, he said then, loud and clear and accompanied his words with a bow. 

From the corners of his eyes, he saw Bickslow leaning back onto the counter half behind him.

“Want a drink?”, said Macao. “I've just opened a cask of apple juice from... wait, you're new, right?”

When Freed straightened up from his bow, he found Master Makarov, Macao, and the smoking man all looking at him and Bickslow, but fortunately, the other guild members still hadn't taken much note of them. Having a whole guild stare at him during their visit of Cassandra's Eye had been a little irritating. 

“Kinda”, said Bickslow. “We wanna join. Maybe.”

“Goodness, even more kids”, said the smoking man a little grumpily, but Master Makarov only looked at Bickslow, met his eyes and then looked back to Freed. 

“My name is Freed Justine, and this is Bickslow. We have come to seek advice from Master Makarov Dreyar.”

“'Seek advice', huh?”, said Master Makarov. Much to Freed's surprise, he grinned a little, and then relaxed on his chair. “Well, at least that's better than worrying about my idiot of a grandson. Get them juice, Macao; and you two, shoot. How can I help?”

A little uneasy, Freed sat down on the stool next to the Master, Bickslow on his other side. “We have come with a matter regarding...”, he started. He had not imaged this to play out in a taproom. “... regarding the nature of our magic.”

Master Makarov mustered first him, then Bickslow again. 

“You probably need to get more specific than that, boy”, said the smoking man on Master Makarov's other side. “What kind of magic are you talking about?”

“That is... actually part of the problem”, Freed said. He felt the urge to flatten his hair over his face and found his eyes twitching towards Bickslow, who thankfully wore his glasses. “We are not completely... excuse me. May we talk about this in private?”

But before anyone could answer, Bickslow let out an impatient snort. “We both have eye magic”, he said flatly. 

“Not here”, Freed hissed, his heart dropping a little.

But Bickslow just ignored him. “Freed doesn't know his one's name, but mine are apparently called Figure Eyes. That's about as much as we know.”

Freed had a quick look around, but if he had expected any sign of commotion, he was thankfully disappointed. “Figure Eyes... are you serious?”, said Master Makarov simply. 

“Yeah?”, Bickslow said, apparently a little taken aback. “Why'd I lie?”

“Well, if you're right, you possess a very rare form of magic”, said Master Makarov.

“You want proof?” With a shrug, Bickslow removed his glasses, eyes still shut. Freed didn't want to think about what would come next; Bickslow couldn't really be thinking about doing this here, in the middle of the guild hall. “Sorry, buddy”, Bickslow said. He opened his eyes and looked straight at Macao, the bartender. “Nothing personal.”

In an instant, Macao turned the same shade of purple like the mercenaries from Red Minotaur had a few weeks back, and his posture became relaxed, almost sloppy. 

“What the hell...”, muttered the smoking man, eyes hopping back and forth between Macao and Bickslow. 

Freed let his gaze quickly wander through the hall. The talking and cheering and drinking was still continuing, only a few people close to the bar were looking over now. Master Makarov watched all of this unfold with thinly veiled interest, though. 

“I want a beer”, Bickslow said casually. 

Then, almost in slow-motion, Macao took the mug of apple juice in front of Bickslow away, drank it in one big gulp on a command from Bickslow and filled a new one with beer. As he had placed it on the counter, Bickslow turned his eyes away and the purple colour vanished from Macao's skin.

“What the actual hell was that!”, exclaimed the smoking man, but Macao seemed completely baffled.

“Did I just... How?”, he stuttered.

When Bickslow turned his face back to the others, he had his glasses back on and starred pointedly onto the table. 

“Very interesting”, said Master Makarov. Freed saw him grin still, though there was something dark in his eyes. He also hoped that he wouldn't have to demonstrate his eyes like this.

“Is that some form of telepathy, or something?”, said the smoking man. His eyes were glued to Bickslow, who stared still onto the counter.

“No”, Master Makarov said calmly. “Telepathy manipulates your thoughts, and what you just witnessed is a very different sort of manipulation. You were born with this, boy?”

“How else should I have gotten these”, said Bickslow.

“It speaks for you that you don't know”, replied Master Makarov. 

Freed's eyes shot ever to Bickslow. “Gildarts Clive said something similar, do you remember? He seemed... somewhat glad when you told him you didn't know much about magic.”

“You know Gildarts?”, said Master Makarov.

“We met him on our journey here”, replied Freed. “He... recommended us to come here and seek your counsel.”

Without another question, Master Makarov suddenly stood up and looked straight at Freed. “High time we move this conversation to my office, boys.”


	11. Questions Answered

“Tell me how you met Gildarts”, Master Makarov said as they had reached his office. 

It lay on the first floor of the building in a moderately sized room. Tall cabinets stood on the walls, a window directly behind the desk looked over Lake Sciliora. The desk itself was covered over and over in papers and books just baring a few centimetres of space for writing. Freed's eldest brother Hal would have wrinkled his nose at this sight.

Master Makarov sat down at his desk, and offered them two chairs on the other side. “Last I know the old daredevil went out on a few easy jobs for a change.”

Freed had felt uneasy the whole time they had come up here considering Bickslow's little display of his magic down in the taproom. Up here in the relative solitude of the office it was better, more quiet, though the loud voices from downstairs still reached them, now muffled my the walls. But now that at least a few of their cards were on the table, he had expected a more detailed discussion about something that mattered – and not a story about how they had met Gildarts Clive.

Judging by the look he threw over to Master Makarov, Bickslow thought the same. 

“Excuse me, Master Makarov...”, Freed said. “I thought we came here to discuss... the matter of our magic.”

Back in the time in his father's castle, such a question would have lead to different reactions depending on which tutor Freed would have asked, but the most common ones had been the ones criticising his impudence.

Makarov Dreyar, on the other hand, grinned a little bit and leant back into his chair. “Certainly, but I'd like a little context, too. And knowing what Gildarts is up to these days won't hurt either.”

“He was about to cure a man from a weretiger bite the last time we saw him”, Freed replied. The feeling of anticipation in his belly had almost taken on a physical shape, but he felt compelled to answer, nonetheless. “And then, he wanted to head out to find the origin of said weretiger curse.”

“Was someone with him, Lagrunge from Quatro Cerberus, perhaps?”

“Yes”, answered Freed, and Master Makarov nodded. “He was accompanied by a man of that name.”

“Wanted us to join Quatro Cerberus”, Bickslow added. “Bit nuts, but I liked his sunglasses.”

“Sounds like Lagrunge, indeed”, said Master Makarov, his grin growing a little fonder. “He and Gildarts go way back. Were out on a few jobs together, too. Courted the same woman, once, as well. Gildarts won, of course.”

Bickslow snorted into his fist, Freed cleared his throat. “We last saw him seven days ago in Aconite, a little village on the way to Clivia. He will have left already, I'm certain.”

“Well, hunting a weretiger doesn't sound like a challenge for Gildarts, anyway”, Makarov Dreyar said. “You said he told you two to come here?”

“We were asking him about our magic, too; of course”, said Freed. The manifestation of the tension in his stomach started moving. “And he identified Bickslow's magic...”

“He wouldn't tell me more about it, though”, Bickslow said. He didn't even try to keep the bitterness about this from his voice. “Just told me that it's Seith Magic, something with Human Possession. And that he wasn't the right one to explain.”

On the other side of the desk, Master Makarov leant forwards. “You don't need these glasses, do you, boy”, he said. His voice had taken on a sharper tone, was more inquisitive now. “You have them to keep your magic at bay.”

In a rash movement that Freed was sure he didn't realise, Bickslow let his hand move over the bridge of his nose, where his tattoo coloured his skin dark blue, and over the rim of his glasses; unsure whether he wanted to take them off or not. He made a movement with his head that was something between a nod and a shaking. “Yes.”  
“Eye magic is very rare”, Master Makarov said. “And can't be learned in a traditional sense. I know of very few people with such gifts, even fewer who can control their eyes fully. Wearing glasses is common, as are bandages, eye-patches and overly long hair.”

At these last words, he looked over to Freed, who suddenly felt his eye pulse in his socket more clearly than he had during the last days. But Master Makarov didn't seem afraid, rather interested and a little amused. Freed felt the sudden urge to unveil his magical eye and simply show it to him.

The elderly wizard, however, took a nearly unnoticeably longer breath, and approached Bickslow again. “Seith Magic has nothing to do with your Figure Eyes, though”, he said. “And I must be sure. Take of your glasses again.”

Bickslow didn't have to be told twice and tore the glasses off his nose. A sickly green surge of light moved through the room as he stared out of the window, his eyes widening as if he was taking in every bit of Master Makarov's soul in his peripheral vision.

Master Makarov mustered him, as well, carefully avoiding a look into Bickslow's eyes. His face was inscrutable and his gaze rested inevitably longer on Bickslow's forehead than anywhere else. “A banishing mark?”, he asked, pointing at the stick-figure.

Bickslow winced slightly. “Yeah”, he croaked. “Didn't work.”

“No, it couldn't”, Master Makarov muttered. He turned his gaze away from Bickslow, who, as he noticed this, put his glasses back on. “I'm sure Porlyusica could remove it”, he said to Bickslow. The inquisitiveness had vanished from his voice. “She should have a look at you, anyway. You look a bit unhealthy.”

“Not sure if I...”, said Bickslow quietly, his hand moving over his forehead another time. Then, as if to chase away his thoughts, he loudly added, “What about this Seith Magic, then?”

Master Makarov sighed now. “It's very rare, too”, he said. “Especially the Human Possession variant. It's the ability to see and control souls, almost like your Figure Eyes. But the souls that can be affected by Human Possession are … have you ever seen the soul of a deceased person, boy?”

Freed's attention jolted over to Bickslow, who returned his gaze, eyebrows lifted and a look in his eyes as if he had been caught stealing. Then, he shrugged and said: “Sometimes.”  
“You never told me”, Freed said. He didn't feel affronted, though. He remembered how difficult it had been for Bickslow to tell his story to Freed in the first place. Bickslow just shrugged once more.  
“Have you ever tried to make one do your bidding?”

For the first time since Freed knew him, Bickslow looked almost scandalised, his eyes behind his glasses wide like platters, his mouth hanging open a little. “No”, he whispered. “I just saw them flying by sometimes, souls without bodies... is that what it's about? Is that what … what I can do?”

“In a nutshell”, said Master Makarov. He still mustered Bickslow, obviously interested in his reactions. “There's more to it, of course. But the short version is that Human Possession is the ability to see and manipulate human souls.” A dark cloud moved over his face, making Freed acutely aware how old he must have been. “I won't lie to you, boy. Human Possession in particular is not a magic with a very good reputation.”

Bickslow snorted openly now, but his face relaxed slowly. “I don't care about that”, he said. “Just tell me if it can do anything useful.”

That Bickslow wasn't intimidated by anything with a bad reputation didn't come as a surprise for Freed, even though he didn't fully share this sentiment. He knew of a few types of magic that carried negative connotations, and most of them were rather sinister. 

“Since you don't seem to know much about magic, I assume you haven't been growing up amongst wizards?”, said Master Makarov.

“Been living in a travelling circus up until...”, Bickslow took in a longer breath. “Up until last winter. No wizards around, just normal people.”

A small grin flew over Master Makarov's face. “In that case... I'd usually agree that paying heed to the general opinion on a specific magic is a waste of time and energy”, he said. “But I would consider it a disservice to you to let you in the dark about it, either.”

His voice had taken on a serious tone. Bickslow noted this, his head jolted over to Freed. His eyes were asking for some form of reassurance, but Freed could only shrug his shoulders. 

“Magic is neither inherently good nor bad”, Master Makarov said. “Just because you can create fire it does not mean that you have to burn people with it. It's all about the wizard and their decision.” He paused, looked at Bickslow first, then at Freed, who felt the anticipation in his stomach twisting his innards. “Seith magic is no different. But it belongs to a group of different types of magic that comes with an inherent cost, a price that the wizard must be willing to pay. The people have labelled these types of magic that come at a price 'black magic'.”

Freed leant forward on his chair. “Black magic...”, he muttered and looked over to Bickslow. “I've heard of this in one of my classes. It's frowned upon to even consider learning magic like this.”

Bickslow's face had taken on a quizzical look, but there was something dark in his eyes. “So you're saying it's evil?”, he said, doing his best to sound plain and casual, but he didn't succeed fully.

“No, I'm not...”, said Freed. And he didn't believe it, either, but putting his rapidly changing thoughts about things he had learned and his own view on them into words was difficult. 

“There is no such thing as good and evil magic”, Master Makarov said sharply. “But it is true, black magic is frowned upon. Seith magic in itself is rarely practised these days, a few tribes in the forests to the west practise the Animal Possession variant as means to communicate with their guardian spirits. But Human Possession is decidedly uncommon.”

Bickslow let out a sigh of frustration, sunk back into his chair. “So it's better I keep my mouth shut about it and pretend like I can't do this, whatever it is? … Controlling souls, I guess? What's that even mean.”

“It's not so different from your Figure Eyes, from what I can tell with my limited expertise. Just that your Figure Eyes affect souls that are still connected to a living human. What you do with your magic, however, it solely up to you”, said Master Makarov. “I don't believe in a generalised condemnation of certain types of magic, and that entails black magic. But if you want to learn more about it, you need to know about the nature of the price you have to pay first, and you need to be willing to pay it.”

The dark look in Bickslow's eyes didn't vanish, quite the contrary. He stared at Master Makarov for almost a full minute before he said: “You won't tell me about this price, right?”

“I would if I knew it”, Master Makarov replied calmly. “But I haven't come in contact with this magic yet.”

“And what's in it?”, Bickslow said. “What's controlling souls even good for?”

“Making bartenders give you alcohol even though your underage, if nothing else”, Master Makarov quipped. As Bickslow didn't laugh at this, he added: “The answer to that question can't be given by anyone else but you. You always have to remember: Magic is a part of you, and what it does or doesn't do is solely dependent on you.”

For a moment, Bickslow looked as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he just took a deep breath and looked over to Freed. “Your turn, then.”

Almost immediately, Master Makarov turned his attention to Freed, who now had the feeling that something had gained hold of his stomach and was pressing it together. He would have to show it, the Eye of Darkness, or whatever it was really called. 

“You said your name is Freed Justine?”, Master Makarov said calmly. “You probably use Rune Magic, then.”

“Yes”, replied Freed, a little surprised. But in the end, his family's penchant for Rune Magic was most likely well-known. “Like my father and my brothers before me.”

“I once received a letter by a Rune Knight regarding the destruction of a tavern in a town Gildarts took a job in”, said Master Makarov with a glint in his eyes. “The name was Coen Justine, I think. Sounded rather young; ambitious, too.”

“Coen is my middle brother”, said Freed. This conversation wasn't going were he had expected it to go. “He is, indeed, a Rune Knight.”

“So what would bring the son of a respected noble family and brother of a Rune Knight to Fairy Tail?”

Bickslow shifted on his seat, so that he was now turned more towards Freed than towards Master Makarov. For the tiniest part of a second, Freed hesitated, afraid of what would come next. He hadn't expected Bickslow's magic to be black magic, and maybe, he wasn't ready for an answer about his own magic yet.  
But on the other hand, the pulsing in his eye socket told him that he needed answers, and maybe, Makarov Dreyar was able to give them.

Keeping his right eye firmly shut, Freed pulled away the hair from his face, tugged it behind his ear. Then, after a last steadying breath, he opened the Eye of Darkness. “This.”

The expression in Master Makarov's face changed quickly; first, a look of utter surprise and confusion appeared, but it changed quickly into something inscrutable and taxing. “A magical eye, so much is clear”, he then said quietly. “What does it do?”

It had started like this, too; about a year ago with Lorentz Rauckal, Freed's former tutor. He had looked at Freed's eye, asked a few questions. Freed had felt a little like an exhibit back then. But it couldn't be helped; Freed couldn't expect answers if he wasn't delivering basic information.

He let his eyes wander through the room in search for something that he could safely demonstrate his magic on without having to call upon his wings. He found a watering can next to a large potted plant. “May I borrow this?”

Master Makarov followed Freed's gesture, nodded in approval. With one word and magic channelled through his eye, Freed made the metallic can heat up. Clouds of vapour soon emanated from both its openings. “It makes the meaning of the words I imbue with my magic reality.”

Master Makarov looked over his shoulder to the boiling water in his can, and as Freed cancelled the effect, his eyes moved back to Freed. Nobody had ever looked at Freed quite the same, not even Bickslow's intense gaze was comparable to how much he felt like a book now, with Master Makarov being the reader. “You know that it can do much more than making water boil, don't you, Freed?”

“I do. I created paralysing runes with it, as well, and magical wings for myself, and...” He had answered faster than he could have pondered on his words, but now he stopped. If he was honest about this, if he admitted to what had happened with Lorentz Rauckal, and even if he had been found innocent... “... I once had an... accident with one of its abilities. A spell went wrong and I ...”  
He was already in exile. He was already facing the consequences of his actions. Nothing that Makarov Dreyar could say if Freed told the truth could change that. “... I think I transformed into a demon, and attacked my tutor at that point. He fell out of a window but survived. I deeply regret this, and my father rightly exiled me for my actions.” 

He spoke quickly and quietly, looked at Master Makarov's eyes the whole time. The master's face remained unreadable for a painful moment, but then, a warm smile formed on his lips. “When you're learning, things go wrong all the time. My grandson once accidentally let a bolt of lightning hit a barn with a thatched roof. It started burning immediately. Natsu sets something on fire almost once a week now that think about it. Mistakes happen, you're still young.”

“It should not have”, Freed said in a steely voice. “If I could really control what my eye does, it _would_ not have happened. But I don't even know its name.”

“If it once had one, it's probably been forgotten”, said Master Makarov. The thing in Freed's stomach loosened its grip slightly. “If I'm not mistaken, your eye is ancient magic, from a time long before Fiore was even founded. I would say something alike it hasn't been seen in generations. I, for certain, haven't studied something similar yet.”

“Then you can't help me”, Freed said, suppressing a bit of disappointment. He was one step further, he told himself; half an hour ago, he hadn't known that his eye was ancient magic. But a part of him wished Master Makarov would have been able to explain more.

“I can't give you the answers you are looking for, I'm afraid”, said Master Makarov. 

“You already helped me, thank you”, said Freed and made a short bow with his head and shoulders. He would start looking somewhere else then; but he also remembered what Gildarts Clive had said: if Makarov Dreyar couldn't help, nobody in Fiore could. These thoughts were accompanied by a feeling like a hole in Freed's stomach that swallowed all of his anticipation at once. “I have another clue now, maybe I'll find records on ancient magic in an archive somewhere. Maybe in Crocus.”

“You wanna go to Crocus again?”, said Bickslow. Freed had, for a moment, forgotten that he was there, too. “I thought we were staying?”

“We can discuss this later”, Freed said. He found it utterly inappropriate to argue about this matter now and at this place. 

“I can give you access to Fairy Tail's library, if you want to”, Master Makarov said then. “I daresay it's rather impressive, and even though I fancy bedtime reading every now and then, I can't say I've studied all of its books. Maybe you're lucky there.”

  


\---

  


The fair chance of finding something relevant for the study of his eye in Fairy Tail's library was enough for Freed to decide on staying in Magnolia, for the moment at least. He took Master Makarov's offer, and soon, he and Bickslow were following the master out of his office and back down into the taproom.

The prospect of having to go to a library again didn't seem to fill Bickslow with as much excitement as it did Freed and he followed the other two in a bit of distance, dragging his feet and his arms locked behind his head. 

Master Makarov stopped at the bar another time, where Macao and the smoking man were now talking amongst themselves. They both looked askew at Freed and Bickslow as they came nearer. Master Makarov, however, ignored that. “Wakaba, would you be so nice as to accompany this young man to Porlyusica”, he said, and pointed at Bickslow. “It seems the two of them are staying a while longer, and I think a check-up would do him good.”

The smoking man took a deep drag from his cigar, looked at Bickslow and then at Macao, who shrugged a bit. “Are they joining?”, he said curtly.

“Don't look at me”, Bickslow answered before Freed or Master Makarov could have said a word. “Probably depends on how good your library is.” He sounded a little dark still.

Wakaba blew out an impressively large ring of smoke that almost enveloped his head fully, then stood up as the air cleared again. “Alright. But no funny things with my thoughts, boy.”

Bickslow snorted shortly. “Sure.”

“I'll meet you here in the evening?”, Freed said and looked over to both Bickslow and Master Makarov for confirmation. 

As both nodded, Freed said his goodbye to his friend and followed the Master through the taproom under the watchful eyes of now nearly all of present Fairy Tail members. Much to his surprise, though, Master Makarov didn't lead him out of the building or upstairs, but to a door in a niche behind the counter that lead into the cellar. They went down a flight of stone stairs into a storage room with large casks and a few wooden stools, and then down another flight of stairs. 

“My predecessor Precht saw to it that Fairy Tail has a library”, Master Makarov said when they reached a corridor that looked a little like the corridor leading down to the dungeon in the Justine's castle. 

Freed had not expected a building like this to have such a large basement. They stopped in front of a tall wooden door. “And figuring that below the ground the chances for accidental destruction by – let's say – fire, are lower, he put it down here.”

As the door opened, Freed had to consciously stop his jaw from dropping. He had expected a somewhat cold room, scarcely illuminated and with shelves hewn into the stone – but in reality, the library that he stepped into now didn't look very different from the one in his father's castle: huge wooden shelves filled over and over with books stood at tall stone walls, some of them in the middle of the room formed aisles. The whole room was illuminated by dozens and dozens of luminiferous lacrima and didn't seem any darker than the taproom, a few wooden desks and stools stood here and there, and Freed spotted at least two ladders for the above head high shelves. There were a few bare spots on the walls, but even there, colourful tapestries made the room seem the polar opposite of a dark and dank dungeon. 

“Well, I think you've got enough to do now”, said Master Makarov with a little grin. “I'll leave you to it. When you're leaving, please tell someone in the taproom. I think Macao will be there until after sundown.”

And with that he left Freed, who muttered a quick “Thank you, Master Makarov” without really looking at him. His eyes were already flying up and down the shelves. He could spent a year here without being able to read all of the books – and he couldn't wait to start.

As the door shut behind him, Freed immediately started his tour through the room. He needed an overview first, as tempting as the thought was to quickly grab a close book and bury himself in it, his visit had a purpose.

He had just inspected the section that apparently dealt with rare herbs briefly, as a soft voice drew his attention away from the books.

“Oh, hello!”, said someone, and as Freed turned around he found a girl about ten or eleven years old standing behind him, carrying three books that together were so large he only saw her face from her brown eyes upwards. “You must be new here, I've never seen you around!”

As quickly as her short legs were taking her, she ran over to a close desk, put the books onto a pile of two other ones and turned back to Freed. She had wavy hair in a lighter blue than Bickslow, and wore a yellow blossom tucked behind her ear. When she came nearer, she offered him a hand and smiled. “I'm Levy. Levy McGarden.”

Freed, who remembered Gildarts mentioning her, returned the gesture and took her hand. “I am Freed Justine, a pleasure to meet you.”

As he made a short, polite bow, Levy's cheeks went slightly pink. “Are you a new guild member?”, she asked, her eyes resting on Freed's large backpack.

“No”, he replied. “But Master Makarov allowed me to use the library for a little... research, that I need to conduct.”

“Oh!”, said Levy. Her eyes lit up, and her smile became even wider. “Maybe I can help you, I've already read about a third of the books here since I've joined; there are so many.”

Freed didn't feel any more willing to speak about his eyes with this girl than he had felt talking to Mira and Erza on the stairs to Fairy Tail. However, his new information allowed it now that he didn't have to. “I am looking for books dealing with ancient magic.”

Levy's eyes sparkled with joy. “I've read a few of those!”, she said, and hurried through another aisle, gesturing him to follow her. She stopped in the opposite corner of the large room, where a ladder stood and pointed up a shelf with particularly old looking books and scrolls. “Up there.”

“Thank you”, said Freed. “I think that will do just fine.”

“There's another desk over there”, said Levy, “If you have more questions, I can try to help you. I'll be back at my own desk, I need to read these books I just found.”

Freed couldn't help but smile a little as she left him for her own books. There was something in her voice that he knew just too well, a certain unbridled enthusiasm at the thought of simply being able to read that filled his own heart at the moment, as well. And as he climbed up the ladder to look through the books, he found the thought of working in companionable silence with another ardent reader quite calming.

  


\---

  


In next to no time, Freed had half a dozen of interesting books on the desk and at least a dozen more on his internal list of what he needed to read in the days to come, had unpacked his stationaries and sat at the desk working through a book on ancient letter magic. Since none of the books or scrolls he had found directly dealt with eye magic (he assumed he would find those in a different section), this one seemed like the most promising.

He collected all the information he thought necessary and then worked his way through the other books; amongst them one that dealt with 'forgotten' spells and one particularly old one titled _'The Darkness Within'_. The title sounded both fascinating and somewhat discomforting, but it turned out to be rather literal, as the book dealt with ancient forms of shadow magic. 

“Uh, sorry... Freed?” He had completely lost track of time when Levy McGarden came to visit him again. She stood a few metres away from him, hands behind her back. “It's getting late, and I'll go back home now. Would you tell someone up in the taproom to lock the door when you leave?”

A little startled, Freed had a look at his own pocket watch and much to his surprise, it was already past 9 pm. He needed to leave, as well, if he wanted to find a room in a tavern for the night, and Bickslow was probably already waiting for him. “I will come with you, if you don't mind.”

They quietly agreed on getting their respective things; Freed put away his notes with intent to read them again later this evening. When he had reached the door to the library, Levy waited for him carrying two books and a small backpack.

“Are you allowed to take them home?”, said Freed as they walked up the corridor.

“Gramps says it's okay if I do, but I always return them the next day.”

“'Gramps'?”

For a second, Levy looked at him with a quizzical expression on her face, but then said: “The master?”

“He's your grandfather?”, said Freed, now a little surprised, as well.

“No, not really”, said Levy, but as if she had only realised what she said the moment the words left her mouth, she quickly added, “I mean... he is, kind of. The master took me in about a year ago, like he did with Natsu and Cana and the others. Fairy Tail's like a family, you know. To all of us.”

Freed decided to leave it at that. “Forgive me if I'm prying, but do you see him as a grandfather-figure, then?”

“It's not just me”, said Levy. Her voice had grown more serious, and even a little sad. “It's all of us children. We've all... well, lost...”

“I apologise”, Freed said solemnly. He suddenly understood, and didn't feel the need to ask further. “I should not have asked.”

Levy send him a thankful smile. “What about you?”

He couldn't just tell her that he was living in exile. It had been hard enough to tell it to the master, but he didn't know this girl very well, as much as he felt a certain type of kinship regarding their passion for books with her. “I still have a father and two brothers”, Freed said instead. “Suffice it to say I can't go back to them for the time being.”

And thankfully, Levy didn't inquire further.

They were on the flight of stairs leading back to the taproom now, and the voices were getting louder and louder. If Freed wasn't mistaken, it was even louder than the first time he had entered this room. Levy waved him goodbye at the door, and went to tell Macao the bartender that she and Freed had left the library, while Freed stayed away from the centre of the room and looked for Bickslow.

The situation in the taproom couldn't have been a more drastic contrast to the library. People were eating and drinking, even singing in one of the corners. Some were talking with others who sat a few tables away, shouting at the top of their lungs, some of them were – much to Freed's disgust – throwing food back and forth. 

Fortunately, Bickslow's tall stature and his blue hair didn't make it very hard to spot him. He sat cross-legged on top of a wooden handrail that separated a few tables at the far other end of the room. Next to him stood a large plate filled with half-eaten food and a tankard, and on the ground before him sat the small white-haired girl from the afternoon and her bow-tie-wearing brother.

Carefully because he didn't want to get hit by one of the flying cheese wheels, Freed made his way through the taproom. Apparently, Bickslow showed the children a few of his tricks; even in the time it took Freed to reach them he made a handstand on the rail, followed by a half turn before he landed on his feet. As the white-haired girl applauded, Bickslow took a mock bow and a sip from his tankard.

“Can you do a cartwheel?”, Freed heard her say.

“I could, but if I did it here I'd land in one of the tables”, Bickslow answered with a grin. He busied himself with chicken leg from his plate. “We'd need to go somewhere with more space.”

The little girl jumped up. “Then let's go outside!”, she chirped. “I want to learn cartwheels, too!”

“Mira wouldn't like it if we went outside at this hour”, her brother said deliberately. “It's already dark.”

“We'd just be in front of the door, Elf”, said the little girl. 

Bickslow watched them with mild interest. Then, his eyes landed on Freed. “Sorry, I guess before your sister puts you under curfew, my friend drags me to I-don't-know-where”, he said dryly to the children and took another chicken wing from his plate, now chewing at two. “Let me finish the food at least, Freed. Even better, get yourself something, too. The old man said we can eat for free today.”

“I'd prefer it if we found a place to stay for a few days”, Freed replied instead. “Since I'd prefer a tavern, I might as well have the meal there.”

“Oh”, said Bickslow, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “What happened to 'we're going back to Crocus'? The library must be huge.”

“It's amazing”, Freed breathed. “It will take me days before I'm finished.”

Bickslow laughed out somewhat darkly, took a few big gulps to finish his tankard and stuffed the remaining chicken leg into the pockets of his trousers. 

“You heard him, we're leaving”, he said to the children then. “I can show you a cartwheel tomorrow if you wanna learn how to do it, Lisanna.”

“Yep!”, the white-haired girl said brightly, jumped up and turned to her brother. “Let's go look for sis then, Elf!”

Freed had another look around, he wanted to thank the master once more before he left. However, the old wizard was nowhere to be found, and so, he left the guild hall, Bickslow in tow. 

“Found anything useful?”, Bickslow said as they moved down the large staircase leading up to Fairy Tail.

“It's hard to say at such an early point in my study”, Freed answered. “The library is very extensive, and I only had the chance to read five books.”

“Shame on you”, Bickslow said dryly.

“Not the whole books, of course”, replied Freed. “But I got an overview of all of them, took notes, and will evaluate them as soon as I found a place for the night.”

“So what's the plan?”, said Bickslow. He sounded somewhat final.

“If you want to know if I intend on staying, the answer is: yes, at least for how long it takes to study what I can find in the library.”

“How long is that?”

“Maybe a week, maybe over the winter. I can't tell. One afternoon isn't enough to get an idea about all the knowledge in that library.”

“We aren't going to join until you're done with that library, are we?”, said Bickslow.

Freed stopped shortly, looked over his shoulder and up to his friend. Bickslow had finished his chicken leg and threw away the bone, took the other one out of his pocket now. He decidedly avoided it to look at Freed. “I remember that a few weeks ago, you left the decision which guild we join and when up to me.”

Bickslow laughed out. “Yeah, sure”, he said dully. “Just wanted to know.”

Freed, realising that his words had come out sharper than intended, added: “I will decide as soon as I can”, he said, calmer now. “But I understand that the situation for you is different now that you have answers.”

“Wouldn't call it answers to know that my magic is _eeeeeeviiiil_ and I've 'got to figure the rest out by myself'”, Bickslow said, still in a sarcastic voice.

“You could come to the library with me. There was another girl today, her name is Levy. She was rather helpful. I bet if you ask her, she knows where you need to start looking”, Freed offered.

“No thanks”, Bickslow said, snorting into the night air. “I think I prefer a more hands-on approach.”

“So... what's the plan?”, Freed echoed Bickslow's own words.

It had the intended effect and Bickslow laughed, more light-hearted this time. “I'm gonna go see the graveyard tomorrow. If there's a place where souls are floating around, it's graveyards.”

“Could you always see the souls of the deceased?”, Freed asked. He had wanted to all the time since he knew that Bickslow didn't only see the souls of the living.

“I guess, yeah”, Bickslow said thoughtfully. “Just that I didn't know it were the souls of the dead. To me, it were just balls of light and colour flying through the air, kinda like souls. Took me a while to realise what they really were.”

“If it helps, nothing about that sounds evil to me”, Freed said. He thought it would lift Bickslow's spirits further, though he quietly wondered about something else, about the apparent price of using Seith Magic. He knew Bickslow was wondering about that, too; but thought it best not to speak about it. As Bickslow didn't respond in a while, he changed the topic entirely. “What was this check-up actually about?”

Bickslow laughed, and it sounded more like the familiar shrill, enthusiastic barking that Freed had become used to. “That woman was really, really nuts. Almost the crankiest old bat I've ever met.”

Glad that the change of topics had apparently worked, Freed asked: “Woman?”

“Porlyusica. She's the guild's doctor. Apparently, old man Makarov wanted her to have a look at me because I'm a bit... well, scrawny. Probably why I got the free meal, too”, Bickslow said. Freed had noticed himself that Bickslow was rather thin, had attributed it to his friend having lived on the streets for quite a while. “Checked a few of my older injuries as well, made them heal. Like, really heal – they're gone now, even those which I thought had already scarred. But you should've seen how she ticked out when she found out that the tattoo was my own damn fault!” 

Bickslow might have burst into another fit of laughter at this, but Freed looked at him, half-expecting to find that it had slipped his attention and the stick figure was already gone, but it was still there. “Could she remove it like the master said?”

“Maybe”, said Bickslow and shrugged. His laughter died down, and he continued in a serious voice: “But I don't know if I want her to. It's not... the same like a cut from a shard of glass or a black eye from a fight or something, it's... my own damn fault. And that's not gonna change, anyway. So why bother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the cameos continue :D Makarov was one of the hardest characters to write so far, because I find his particular brand of humor to be hard to pin down. And Levy was initially not a planned character - but as things happen, I thought it would be fun if Freed met her in the library. Speaking of which - I apologise if I got anything from canon wrong considering the location of library. I made it up, I have to admit - as far as I know, canon never states where it is, exactly. If I'm wrong, feel free to enlighten me :D  
> Last but not least - thanks for the hits, kudos and comments so far and happy Eastern to everybody who celebrates it!


	12. Answers Questioned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling very clever with that title...

On this evening, Freed booked a room in a tavern close to Magnolia's Cardia Cathedral. He and the tavern's owner reached the agreement that if the initial week that Freed had already paid the room for wouldn't be enough, he could easily renew his booking for another week.

Bickslow, again, shunned the tavern and instead spend his night out in the open. He said goodnight once Freed had settled into his room, and the boys agreed to meet again in the morning and return to Fairy Tail.

A good portion of the night Freed spent reviewing everything he had written down in the library, and making a plan on which books to read next. Some books had recommended further reading, and he remembered to have seen some of the suggested titles in the section, as well. Additionally, he needed to find out whether or not the library had a dedicated section to eye magic, or at least to specific magic that couldn't be learned in a traditional sense. As a secondary premise, he also thought of reading up on Seith Magic; even if Bickslow preferred his own methods whatever they were, Freed favoured reading and he refused to believe that more knowledge could hurt anyone. Additionally, there were at least two people in Fairy Tail Freed still wanted to talk to: Mirajane, and Evergreen. With the former, Freed assumed it was about meeting her on a day on which she didn't seem likely to threaten someone with a kitchen knife; and with the latter, it was about actually meeting her at all. But the longer he stayed, the higher the chances became for this.

After a short night, Freed had breakfast in the tavern on the next morning before meeting Bickslow on the plaza in front of Cardia Cathedral. Apparently, his friend had spent the night just barely out of town.

“I'm thinking of going to the lake today, you game?”, Bickslow said as they were on their way back to Fairy Tail. He certainly seemed in better spirits than the day before; his usual grin had found its way back onto his face. “It's closer to the guild, I'm gonna look for a place to sleep there. Could use a bath, too.”

“I don't think I will find time to join you”, Freed said. “I have a lot of research in front of me.”

“Fine then”, Bickslow said with a shrug. “Wanna meet up some other time?”

“I... honestly, I intend on spending a lot of time in the library, maybe I'll just leave it over lunch.”

“I'll be in the guild hall then, okay?”, Bickslow said brightly.

Freed suppressed a sigh. He wasn't sure about eating at the guild; if the taproom was as loud today as it used to be yesterday, he would hardly find the peace and quiet he would be looking for. On the other hand, only in the guild hall he would have a chance to meet the two girls he needed to speak to.

And so, Freed agreed to meet Bickslow in the taproom at midday, and returned to Fairy Tail's basement. Somehow, he wasn't surprised to find the door to the library unlocked and Levy McGarden already at the desk from the day before, completely absorbed in a book about past wizard saints. 

Freed greeted her quietly and returned to his own desk in the other corner of the room.

Before lunchtime came, Freed managed to work through another three books from the list of recommended titles and even expand this list by another four. However, as he found nothing substantial in any of the three books, his thoughts at lunchtime were already back down in the library, working on ' _Magic of the Past: Spells From a Time Before Fiore_ ', the last book he had found. 

“Means it'd be easier to meet here tomorrow morning”, said Bickslow lively, and Freed registered that while his thoughts had drifted off to his books once again, one of the loud voices around him had been Bickslow. 

A little embarrassed by his own inattentiveness, Freed looked over to his friend. Much to his relief, Bickslow didn't seem to have noticed that Freed had only half-listened to him, instead, he was busy with his food. The bar was today tended by Wakaba, the smoking wizard, and he had announced that after talking to Porlyusica himself, Master Makarov had come to the decision that the boys could eat for free in Fairy Tail for the first week of their stay. With Bickslow, this made sense to Freed; but he himself hadn't even met Porlyusica yet. However, Freed decided it was for the best he also agreed to that offer. 

“But I guess I'll join you when you go back to the tavern in the evening, anyway”, Bickslow said.

Freed put two and two together and concluded that Bickslow must have spoken about spending his nights at the shore of the Lake, and a quick glance over his friend's now a little more neat looking hair told him that he was probably right and Bickslow had already visited the lake and taken a bath. 

As he started talking about showing cartwheels to the little white-haired girl Lisanna, however, Freed turned his attention back to what he still remembered from his notes. Back in his father's castle, it had not been unusual for him to pay more attention to his notes than to his food in what little breaks he had had.

Freed excused himself after about an hour and agreed with Bickslow to meet again at 9pm in the taproom. The time until then he spent reading more and more books from the section on ancient magic.

In the evening, the list of books for the following day had doubled while the books in the section he hadn't read or at least taken a quick look into had effectively been halved, and Freed had not come across any useful hint on his eye. He told himself that he had still seen only a fraction of the knowledge the library had to offer, and he was quite successful with soothing himself.

“Anyway, I also found the graveyard today”, Bickslow said as they had already nearly reached the tavern in which Freed stayed. “It's a bit outside, to the east of the cathedral. I think I'll go there tomorrow.”

“What are you going to do once you're there?”, asked Freed. He realised that he, again, could not remember everything Bickslow had said since they had left the guild hall, but instead, had recited a particular text passage from his latest book about ten times in his head. He immediately felt a little bad for it.

“I don't know”, Bickslow said with a shrug. “Take off these specs for a start, and then have a good look at what's floating around there. Haven't been on a graveyard all that often, it's probably going to be interesting.”

For a moment, Freed wondered if reading souls on a graveyard was the same to Bickslow like reading a book in library was to Freed, but as the thought seemed a little macabre, he didn't follow up on it.

After another rather short night Freed returned to the library again and only left it for the lunch break. After these few days, he was getting a little better at blocking out the background noises from Fairy Tail's taproom, but still felt torn between listening to Bickslow talk about the graveyard, and thinking about his latest findings.

He decided for the former, but after Bickslow had just told him about a difference in the opacity of two different souls he had found, Freed's mind was taken off the discussion by something else: Mirajane had entered the taproom, followed by her brother and little sister. She seemed in a rather good mood, and half-smiling as she was now as Lisanna talked excitedly about something, Freed noticed that his art tutor would have found Mirajane rather good-looking; she had often talked about how she liked to draw beauty, often enough to have left Freed with an idea about it. 

Bickslow, who had stopped his report noticing Freed's eyes turn towards the guild's entrance, said: “Lisanna told me they wanted to go on a job yesterday after lunch”, he said. “Looks like it went well...”

“You've spoken to the little girl yesterday?”, Freed said, still looking over to Mirajane and her siblings and weighing in his head whether or not he wanted to talk to her now. 

“Yeah?”, replied Bickslow, a little sharper than usually. “I showed her cartwheels, remember?”

It had indeed slipped Freed's mind, but at the moment, the sole information that he needed was that Mirajane was apparently really in a good mood. She patted a happy Lisanna on the head while their brother went over to the bar to get them food. It seemed like a good opportunity.

He quickly told Bickslow about his intentions and left his place to try and arrange a meeting with Mirajane.

“Pardon me”, he said as he came to a halt next to her, bowing shortly. He registered that the eyes of both sisters were now on him. “My name is Freed Justine and I ---”

“I know your name already”, Mirajane cut in in a bored voice.

“Of course. I simply assumed our first meeting two days ago hardly counts as a formal introduction”, Freed replied patiently. “Anyway, that does not seem to be the case. I would like to talk to you, but I admit it might be an inopportune moment.”

“Thought you'd have left by now”, Mirajane said, ignoring his request and letting her eyes wander over the people in the taproom. “And that fidgeter you've been with is still there, too. So you've joined already?”

“Master Makarov allowed me to use the library before I make my decision whether or not to join Fairy Tail.” Freed thought it was best to answer her questions before he would repeat his request. 

“Kind of him”, Mirajane said casually, but her eyes took on a colder look as she mustered first Bickslow wolfing down his sandwiches and then Freed standing in front of her. “Want to tell me about that secret research?”

Her statement had very little in common with a question, is was much more like an order. “I fear I cannot talk about it before I've finished”, Freed replied, thinking it would sound polite. “The matter is rather complicated.”

“So you've got complicated magic?”, the little girl, Lisanna, chirped. Freed's eyes moved over to her, she looked at him eyes wide with curiosity. Mirajane's cold eyes, however, were now glued to the place where his hair covered his magical eye.

Misinterpreting the ensuing silence, Lisanna added in a shy voice: “Bickslow said that, you know. That you're learning about your magic.”

“Yes, indeed”, Freed said evenly, but he planned to tell Bickslow as soon as possible not to talk about his magic. It wasn't that he wanted to keep it a secret, but he didn't want to talk about it with everyone before he had clarity.

Mirajane, however, patted Lisanna on the head again and did not inquire further. “And how do I fit into this?”

“It has been brought to my attention that you use Take Over Magic, specifically Satan Soul...” Freed lost track of his words for a second, as Mirajane stared down at him now as if she was still carrying the kitchen knife and wanted to use it, as well. “And I would like to speak to you about it.”

“What's there to talk about”, Mirajane snapped.

“Well...”, said Freed. He needed to be careful now. “I am interested in how it works because of my research, it might be related to parts of my magic that I don't understand yet.”

Mirajane dedicated a withering glance to him that, only for a split second, seemed to turn his blood into ice. “It's really not that complicated”, she then said, in a voice so sweet it was a stark contrast to her face. 

Lisanna next to her sighed softly, and took a step to the side as magic began to flare around Mirajane's right arm. It immediately started to grow longer, her fingers turning into claws and her skin changing into purple scales. 

As Freed took an involuntary half-step back as well, a satisfied grin moved over Mirajane's face. A violet liquid started dropping down from the claws on her transformed arm, the wooden floor fumed and turned black like it was being burned as a bit of the substance fell onto it. Still grinning, Mirajane lifted her hand to her face, and with such obvious relish that Freed found it nearly repulsive, licked the substance of the claw that had replaced her index finger. “I...”, she began, and licked the liquid off her middle claw, “...eat...”, her fourth claw came next, “... demons.” 

To finish her little show, she licked the substance off of her remaining two claws, and transformed her hand back whilst already walking off to her brother at the bar, Lisanna at her heels. “Stick to your books, nerd”, she said coldly over her shoulder.

And Freed decided that she was probably right, he could learn more about Take Over Magic from the books, as well. Books weren't quite so dramatic, and definitely more informative.

  


\---

  


The next days all followed a similar pattern: in the morning, Freed would go to Fairy Tail's library, only come out for lunch with Bickslow in the taproom, then returned to the library and studied until the evening. In his room in the tavern at Cardia Cathedral he studied his notes.

He had started research on Take Over Magic the afternoon after his attempt at talking to Mirajane, but the only conclusion that he reached in the next time was that his eye wasn't linked to this type of magic. Take Over Magic required detailed knowledge about the subject that the user wanted to change into, in some cases even the absorption of the subject's soul. Since Freed was sure he had never come into contact with a demon apart from in one of his novels, it wasn't likely that his eye's magic was linked to it. 

It also meant that Mirajane must have had contact with a demon before to mimic its attributes, and probably had defeated it. She likely didn't need the kitchen knife to defend herself.

The only thing that brought variety into Freed's daily routine was Bickslow, who seemed to have something new to talk about every day. One day, he had gotten into a fight with Natsu and Gray and now sported a black eye. One day, he talked about how Magnolia looked from on top of its rooftops, and another about how far he had swam out on Lake Sciliora.

As Freed had, slightly irritated by Bickslow's ongoing quest in talking about irrelevant things, asked him why he never talked about the graveyard and if that meant he had given up on his own research, Bickslow had just replied that Freed himself didn't speak about his research, either. “You're not exactly chatty these days”, Bickslow said plainly. “Thought I'd try to take your mind off of your studies for a bit.”

“I don't want my mind taken off of my studies”, Freed replied. He was, once more, contemplating what he had found out – or better, hadn't figured out yet – during the day as the boys walked through Magnolia's streets this evening. “This matter is of utmost importance to me, you know that.”

“'Course”, said Bickslow dryly. He said nothing for a moment, but then, started running, jumped onto a lamppost first and then onto the roof of a close building. 

The hands clasped behind his head he followed Freed up to his tavern, jumped down shortly to say his goodbye and was gone faster than Freed could have replied.

For a moment Freed considered explaining that he hadn't meant to be rude the next time he met Bickslow, but also that he needed all his focus to study. But Bickslow didn't show up for lunch that next day. Macao, who tended the bar this time, told Freed that he had left after breakfast. “Erza said she saw him on the graveyard yesterday”, he said, a little uneasy. “He's probably there if you want to talk to him.” And in a whisper he added: “Spooky kid.”

“I'll see him in the evening, thanks”, Freed replied, and returned to the library earlier this day. If Bickslow wasn't there, there wasn't a reason he should spent more time in the loud taproom than necessary.

This evening, even though Bickslow was there to accompany Freed to his room, they didn't talk. 

Freed wasn't sad about it, his mind was processing a lot of new information. In the last days, he had left the section on ancient magic behind, and since he had not found anything of substance, he already felt a bit restless. He had ever since turned his attention to books on different forms of eye magic, letter magic, magic related to Take Over and even to books focussing on tribes that lived in Ishgar before the foundation of Fiore, but to no significant avail.

It almost seemed as if his eye was unique, or heard of so rarely that not even a library that extensive had anything on it. After a week had passed, Freed had found out more things that his magic was not than any definite information on its features, not speaking about something like a collection of spells he could use.

Sometimes, he asked himself how Lorentz Rauckal had actually known anything about his eye. He certainly had travelled through more of Ishgar, and perhaps, this was exactly what Freed needed to do as well. Though even Lorentz Rauckal had not known of his eye's name, nor anything definite about the source or nature of his magic. He had only taught Freed spells using the most basic of his magic's features: creating effects that the words written and imbued with magic by Freed described.

Freed was deeply in thoughts this evening, and though his attempts at calming down himself by telling himself that he hadn't read the whole library yet had worked so far, it wasn't as easy any more. More than half of the sections in the library he had already ruled because they dealt with unrelated topics, and from those which were interesting to him, he had already completed about eighty percent. It was very unlikely that the remaining twenty percent would lead to more success, statistically.

“I think I figured something out, you know”, Bickslow said in a rather serious voice as they had reached the plaza where the tavern was located.

Freed tore his thoughts back to the current situation. He hadn't talked to Bickslow since their odd goodbye from yesterday, and felt a bit guilty about it. “What about... exactly?”

“About my magic”, Bickslow said bluntly. “About how it works.”

Freed felt something turn in his stomach, something dark, but he didn't like it and fought it. “Do you want to tell me what it is?”

Bickslow looked at him through his glasses, one eyebrow raising the arm and leg of his tattoo. “Would rather like to show you”, he said. “On the graveyard.”

“It's late”, Freed said, but realised quickly how it must have sounded. “I would like to know, but not today. I... I can come to the graveyard in my lunch break.”

Bickslow cracked a little smirk and breathed out a quiet laugh. “Sacrificing your precious break, I'm honoured.”

“The taproom is very loud, anyway”, Freed said, in what he thought was a placating tone. Bickslow, however, snorted. “And I think a bit of fresh air can't hurt, either.”

“Great”, said Bickslow. Freed half-expected a real smile, but the little smirk stayed firmly in place. “See you tomorrow then, I guess. I'll meet you at the cathedral at noon.”

Freed found it more difficult to concentrate on his notes that evening. That dark something in his stomach that he had tried to fight off was still there, and now that he was alone, he recognised that it was in part an envy towards Bickslow that he had denied himself to feel until now. Ever since he had first heard of the name of Bickslow's eye magic back when he had fought the mercenaries that had chased them he knew that Bickslow had a comfort that he didn't have – certainty about what his magic was. But it wasn't Bickslow's fault or choice, and so, Freed had decided not to let it cloud his mind and their budding friendship.

Now though, as Bickslow was making progress and he was nearing the point at which he had to admit that Fairy Tail didn't have the answers he had been looking for, Freed couldn't fight the feeling any longer.

He would let it go tomorrow. 

  


\---

  


The next morning in the library ruled out about another five percent of the books Freed still had on his list. 

Holding his head up with his arms and a pen tugged behind his right ear Freed stared at the books in front of him; especially at ' _Eye Magic: A Complete Analysis of the Biological and Magical Correlation'._ It mostly dealt with a more scientific approach on explaining eye magic, but a few instances of less rare types of magical eyes were still explained. There was a footnote mentioning the Figure Eyes Bickslow possessed, and a variety of other magic Freed hadn't heard of so far. The book was an interesting read, under different circumstances downright fascinating. But now that he had spent so much time on books and scrolls; and didn't even find an answer in a book directly dealing with his issue, fascination had slowly turned into frustration. He couldn't exactly make out the point when this had happened, but it certainly had. This was starting to feel more irritating than working on a difficult homework assignment back in the castle.

Leaving the library over lunch, for the first time in the last week, felt a little bit relieving. Freed tried telling himself that maybe Bickslow's progress would be a source of new motivation, but it didn't quite work. He was very aware that it also could achieve the opposite. Even with all his efforts, Freed had not accomplished anything during the last days. There were a few vague hints, but nothing that was worth more than a footnote in what he had already known from studying himself and his magic's effect.

But at the very least, meeting on the graveyard would probably help with the tense atmosphere between him and Bickslow in the last days. 

The taproom was as loud as always. Freed was determined to pay no attention to anyone, but after crossing about half of the room, he started to have the feeling that someone was watching him very intensely. He had a look around and found a girl sitting on a secluded table to the side, looking over to him. He had not seen her before; she was about his age, her sandy brown hair was tied into pigtails and she wore a light green blouse made for warmer weather than the early autumn chill Magnolia was experiencing now. Despite not moving neither her body nor her face, she did not exude an aura of patience, quite the opposite. The way she looked at Freed through her almond-shaped, pink glasses it seemed as if she was expecting something from him, but Freed wasn't quite certain what.

For a moment he considered ignoring her, but then an idea made him decide differently, and he instead moved over to her. Bickslow would have to wait.

As he moved through the rows of tables towards her, he was watching her about as closely as she did him. Her head though was still not moving. She almost didn't move at all, a little as if someone had just put a very lifelike statue on that secluded table. 

“I beg your pardon”, said Freed politely and bowed as he reached her table. “But if I am not mistaken, we haven't met. My name is Freed Justine.”

“I know”, the girl said in a quite hard voice, and Freed looked up to see a smug smile moving over her face. “That Levy-girl is a real chatterbox when she doesn't have her nose in a book, you know.”

Freed did not share this impression of Levy McGarden, but decided it was best to not start this conversation with a disagreement. “Very well. Since I have been in Magnolia for nearly a week now, it only makes sense that my name has made the rounds, I assume. I fear I do not know yours, though. May I learn it, as well?” 

“So _my_ name hasn't made the rounds, of course”, the girl said, her voice turning a little colder. Then, she huffed and added: “But what did I expect.”

Freed waited a moment with a reply, but as she didn't seem to want to elaborate, he said: “Well, I think it has. But I thought it impolite to assume I know who you are, since we haven't been introduced.”

The girl finally moved her head a little, only to shoot Freed a warning glance. Her eyes behind her glasses were just as unnaturally bright as Bickslow's, but very different otherwise. They were of a brilliant green; almost like the leaves of trees in the mid of summer; and not sickly with too much yellow in them. However, the girl's eyes were also far colder. Freed had no doubt that his assumption about who she was was correct, and his heart seemed to go just a little faster. 

“Well, gentleman”, the girl said and offered her hand to Freed. “Since you asked so _nicely_ , I'm not going to make this harder for you. I'm Evergreen, of course.”

The way she held her hand made it obvious that she expected Freed to kiss it, which he found a little confusing. Of course, the gesture was practised in the circles his family was usually moving, but he had not expected it from a girl in a guild like Fairy Tail. It was both something familiar and something very unlike the character of this taproom and the people he had met so far.

On the other hand, he had longed to meet Evergreen, had wanted to speak to her, and so, he did as she expected him to and brushed the back of her hand with his lips. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Evergreen.”

As he looked up again, her eyes glanced at him a little less cold, and her smirk had become a little less hard. He took it as a good sign and set down on a chair on the other side of her table. 

“So... Who was it who told you about me?” The way she spoke it was obvious that she tried to mask something with sounding particularly casual. She had shifted her position now such that she looked directly at Freed, and judging by the look on her face, that something was eagerness.

“Gildarts Clive”, Freed answered, and Evergreen's smirk became more smug again. “My friend Bickslow and I met him on our journey here. He recommended visiting Fairy Tail to us.”

“Bickslow...”, Evergreen repeated. “You mean that blue-haired bean-stalk who goes about in rags and laughs like he's drunk?”

It surely wasn't a particularly polite thing to say, but Freed had to admit that her description was somewhat astute. “Well,... yes. We arrived together. We want to join a guild, and came here to find out whether or not Fairy Tail is suited for us. You already met him?”

“Saw him in the morning scarfing down his breakfast and talking to Cana. Someone told me he arrived with a young noble who spends more time in the library than Levy”, said Evergreen. She looked at Freed as if she awaited a reply, but as none came, she added: “I thought he looked like a big buffoon, and couldn't imagine a noble willingly spending time with someone like him.”

“Well, he's not a buffoon”, Freed said, a little colder than intended. The way she looked at him, it was rather obvious Evergreen tried to provoke him, which he wasn't allowing to happen. But still; the way she spoke angered him. “And I rather enjoy his company.”

A trace of surprise ghosted over Evergreen's still rather motionless face. “Do you now...”, she drawled. “Well, then. Your problem.”

“Anyway”, Freed said in a determined voice. He had not come here to speak about his choice of company. “Gildarts Clive mentioned you only joined Fairy Tail rather recently yourself?”

“A few weeks ago”, Evergreen said.

Freed had a few options now. He could either admit that he knew of her magic eyes from Gildarts Clive, and probably provoke a similar reaction like with Mirajane, or he could try to make the conversation flow towards that topic more naturally. He had a look at his pocket watch; he was going to be very late to his appointment on the graveyard. But on the other hand, he didn't want to risk being cut off again. 

“May I ask why you decided for this guild?”, Freed said. “I found it rather difficult to make an unbiased decision on that field myself.”

“It's _Fairy_ Tail, of course”, Evergreen said as if she was speaking about the most natural thing in the world. “Where else would I be?”

A little baffled himself, Freed gave back: “I beg your pardon, but I fear I can't follow your thoughts. Would you elaborate, please?”

Much to his surprise, Evergreen huffed. “So nobody cared to talk about what type of magic I use, I guess?”, she said.

“Well, Gildarts Clive told us that you had---”

“Yes?”, Evergreen interrupted him. She almost sounded aggressive by now, as if she was waiting for a specific type of answer.

Freed cleared his throat. “Well, Bickslow and I had a discussion with Gildarts Clive about our magic. About... both our eye magic.” He mustered Evergreen intensely, but the girl only looked at him with a glint in her eyes that reminded him a little of Mirajane. “And he mentioned that you have eye magic as well.”

“That's it?”, she snapped, crossing her arms on her chest. “That's typical!”

“I beg your pardon”, Freed said once more. “Was he supposed to say something else?”

“I use _Fairy_ Magic”, Evergreen said as if Freed was stupid for not having guessed it. “If anyone has the right to join Fairy Tail, it's me.”

Freed found the argument quite flimsy, but didn't admit it out loud. He at least knew Fairy Magic from his classes, and if used properly, it had a huge offensive potential. And from all he had gathered about her so far, Evergreen did not seem the type to shy away from using it.

“I did not know that”, Freed said evenly. Fairy Magic or not, he needed to talk about her eye magic and they had already nearly reached that topic. “I am sorry. However, while we're talking about magic. I possess eye magic as well, and I dare say that this is something we have in common.”

He removed the hair that covered his right eye from his face and allowed Evergreen a quick look at the Eye of Darkness. Any hint of a smile on her face froze in an instant. Maybe it had been too soon.

But Evergreen quickly regained composure and said: “Apparently, we do. What about it?”

“The reason I have spent so much time in the library is that I don't know much about my eye magic”, Freed said. Showing his eye had worked better than he had feared. “I know part of its effects; but I neither know its name nor about other instances of its occurrence in the past, to just name a few of the blank spots.”

“What does that have to do with me?”, Evergreen said, in the same aggressive voice that she had used before.

“Bickslow has eye magic as well”, Freed said patiently. “It seems we all three share this peculiarity, and I thought that together, we might succeed where one of us alone would fail.”

A very dangerous glint appeared in Evergreen's eyes. “Who claimed I was failing?”, she spat.

“I'm sorry”, Freed said quickly, raised his hands in placating gestures. “I didn't want to insinuate you did. I simply thought that we could help each other gaining more information---”

“Who said I need help from a bumble and a buffoon?”, Evergreen suddenly thundered and jumped up from her chair, staring down at Freed as if he wasn't more than a cockroach.

And he didn't even have the time to reply, as she turned on her heels harshly and marched out of the room without looking back at him. 

He didn't have any idea what he could have said that warranted this treatment, but apparently, talking to Evergreen would turn out to be as successful as talking to Mirajane. Which limited the amount of things he wanted to do before leaving Fairy Tail to about thirty books in the library.

He took a few moments to stall a flood of disappointment that washed over him while a lot of people were staring at him. Then, he collected himself and decided to tell Bickslow over lunch that he doubted that he would find his answers in Fairy Tail. Being honest with himself, he feared he wouldn't even find these answers in Fiore. Maybe Bosco had more to offer apart from coconuts.

He had almost gotten up to leave as a voice behind him said: “Don't be mad at her, Freed. There are stories that can't be told in just one day.”

He turned around to find Master Makarov approaching him. The old wizard still had his face half turned to the door that had shut behind Evergreen a few moments earlier and looked at it with an almost charitable smile. 

“Since Evergreen joined Fairy Tail, that was the longest conversation she shared with anyone, me included. I suppose she didn't always have it easy.” Master Makarov sat down on the chair that Evergreen had just left empty. “Another aspect that the three of you share, I suspect.”

“I did not intend to say something that would offend her”, Freed said. 

Master Makarov smiled at him in the same, almost charitable way now. “You don't need to intend to offend someone to do so, Freed”, he said. Then, he took in a long breath before he continued. “I suppose you wanted to know about her eyes?”

“Of course”, Freed answered, but had the sudden feeling that this wasn't a good answer. “She is only the second person with eye magic that I met, it would only be logical that we helped each other.”

Master Makarov laughed quietly. “And she didn't like to hear that, of course.”

“Bickslow didn't react...”, Freed started, but then thought back and suddenly felt a little stupid. Bickslow had worn his eyes under bandages, had called them 'cursed' and had branded his own forehead in an attempt to suppress his eye magic. As soon as Freed had asked him to come along to find a guild, he had gladly agreed. Evergreen, however, only wore a normal pair of glasses, and Freed had assumed that her being in Fairy Tail implied that she, too, looked for magical guidance, or didn't need it any more and could help him in some form. “That is perhaps not the best of comparisons.”

The master nodded. “Every path in life is different, everyone collects different impressions, makes different experiences. And consequently, everyone will learn in different ways. Speaking of which”, he said, “I hope our library is of help to your studies?”

Freed didn't answer right away. These kind of questions were best handled with care. “It is very extensive and fascinating”, he said. And then, in a ostensibly neutral tone, he added: “Unfortunately, I was not able to find records on any magic similar to that of my eye.”

“I thought that much”, Master Makarov said, his words accompanied by a small nod.

Freed felt a rush of frustration shooting through him like a heart burn. He wanted to say that he very much would have liked this information in the beginning of his research time, but it appeared ungrateful to him to be so dismissive towards Master Makarov's generous offer to use Fairy Tail's library. 

Instead, Freed decided to skip the topic. “You will understand that I will have to continue my research in other places, Master Makarov.”

“I can recommend the Magic Library of Fiore”, the master said easily and now leant back on his chair. “Or the Royal Library in Crocus, though I assume that your friend Bickslow will protest. He seems to have an aversion to the town.”

For a moment, Freed wondered whether the master knew that Freed would not join Fairy Tail if he left now, or if he knew, but didn't care. Gildarts Clive and Lagrunge had seemed very different, almost competitive, when it came to the topic of joining a certain guild. Then, his thoughts returned to something that Gildarts Clive had said, something that had fuelled his research over the last days because he had wanted it to be wrong.

“Excuse me, Master Makarov”, said Freed. “But Gildarts Clive said to me and Bickslow that if you didn't have the answer to the question about my eye, nobody in Fiore had.”

Master Makarov laughed out loudly. “Did he?”, he said, still swallowing the one or other laugh. “He's always a bit dramatic like that. But in this case...” He took a deep breath and looked straight at Freed. “... in this case, I fear he might be correct. The other Wizard Saints might know more than I do, of course.”

“Then it's hopeless”, said Freed, now finally acting on his disappointment. “I really need to leave Fiore then. Maybe someone in a different country knows more, in _'Regional Magic in Ishgar'_ I read something about a tribe in Joya that---”

But Master Makarov interrupted him.“Do you think you will be successful there?”

The question struck Freed like a bolt of lightning. For a moment, all that he could do was stare at the old wizard on the other side of the table, but then he said: “I... I don't know. But I need to try – I need to know the answers about my eye. I need to know what exactly I am dealing with.”

Master Makarov's expression didn't change, but as he spoke again, something lay in his voice that Freed hadn't heard so far. “And do you think a book will teach you that?”

Freed didn't reply. Books had always served him well, had taught him all that he knew apart from his more practical skills. But even with those, Freed had read books about fencing, about playing the violin, about painting. Books not only meant knowledge, they meant comfort; they meant that he could mentally prepare for everything that he could just read up on. 

“Don't get me wrong, Freed. I understand that reading and studying is your way of approaching the things you do not yet know”, Master Makarov continued, sending another bolt of lightning through Freed. “But there are questions with answers that are not written down anywhere. Instead, to find them, you have to look at a different place: within yourself. Your magic, as foreign as it may seem, is a part of you. And even if you can take no other experience from Fairy Tail, I hope this bit of advice will help you in the future.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaand there she is! The last member of the Raijinshuu appears! (To anyone who's wondering: This is set in late September/Octobre; the prologue was set in August.)


	13. Soul Searching

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's time for a Bickslow-centric chapter - and the answer to an important question.

A ball of blue light, coloured a bit like Lake Sciliora in the early morning but more transparent, floated around the trunk of an old tree. It did that rather often; just like the ball that looked like a grapefruit often bobbed back and forth between two rows of gravestones.

They weren't the only ones, of course. The graveyard was a bit like fairy lights, dozens and dozens of little balls of light moving around. It was probably a little morbid, but Bickslow found it rather calming to see this hustle and bustle of so many bodiless souls. 

He had never thought a lot about the souls of the dead. They were different; more transparent and of simpler, more uniform colours than the souls of the living. He'd seen different forms, too; but most of them were simply little balls, or billows of something that looked a little like colourful fog. It was just another thing that he had thought his eyes allowed him to see, something that he had taken on as something normal until his uncle had told him a few years ago that it wasn't. He still hadn't cared much, and much less, hadn't cared to actually _touch_ them in any form. Not until a few days ago, at least.

The blue soul circling the old tree made another round and reached the point closest to him. Bickslow lifted his hand and concentrated like he did when making people do his bidding. The soul stopped and made a looping backwards before Bickslow freed it again. Until a few days ago, he wouldn't even have dreamed about this. He wasn't sure for what it was useful, not quite, at least; but it was more than he had had weeks ago in his alley in Crocus.

Freed didn't come to visit him, of course. He probably had forgotten about lunch time, his nose in another book and completely unaware that somewhere Magnolia, Bickslow had waited for him. After half an hour at Cardia Cathedral, he had grown tired of pretending that Freed would come and had gone back to the graveyard – he was better off here than waiting at the Cathedral all dressed up and with nowhere to go. With a snort, Bickslow made the blue soul do another looping, forwards this time. He knew that expression on Freed's face that had become more and more dominant over the last days. It was the same expression with which he had brooded over his escape diagrams back in Crocus, that expression that said that he didn't really know what to do next but pretended very hard to have a plan.

It was true that Bickslow had said that he didn't care which guild they joined. Back on that farm, all that had mattered to him had been not to part from Freed again so soon; not now, after – for the first time in half a year – he actually felt like he was better off being with someone else. Someone else that wouldn't cringe when Bickslow would eventually tell him why he had been living alone on the streets. Freed hadn't cringed because of his tattoo, or because of his eyes, or because of anything, really. Being in a guild with a new friend, that had appeared so good that it hadn't mattered which guild it was.

But now... when Bickslow followed Freed once more, he'd have to leave Fairy Tail behind. He didn't doubt that it was only a matter of time until the library wasn't extensive enough any more and Freed came up with other plans. And all in all, Bickslow liked travelling. But there was this tiny fact that he also really liked it here. There were people around in Fairy Tail, and lots of kids, he liked his spot on a tree next to the lake. And even though he still wasn't sure whether or not he could simply be content like this after what had happened with the circus, he felt somewhat good about being here. As if he could imagine wearing that little birdie emblem that was Fairy Tail's guild sign somewhere. 

And that left Bickslow in a somewhat bad fix. He wanted to stay, but Freed surely wanted to leave. Of course, Bickslow could simply let Freed go his own way and stay in Fairy Tail himself, but after what had happened in Crocus and on the farm with the mercenaries... he owed Freed a lot, and not only money. Freed had saved his ass back then, just because it was the right thing to do after his standards. It seemed ungrateful even to Bickslow to simply leave at the first opportunity that presented itself. 

Lost in his thoughts he took control of the blue soul again, made it circle around his head and fly a figure eight around two gravestones.

“Here you are”, said someone behind him. “I couldn't find you at the Cathedral.”

Having the soul still fly around the gravestones, Bickslow turned his head half over the shoulder. Freed had come to a halt a bit behind him, without any books or bags for a change. “Can't expect me to wait until sundown”, Bickslow said.

An apologetic smile ghosted over Freed's face. “I am sorry. I have a good explanation, though.” On a nod from Bickslow Freed came closer, and sat down in the grass next to him. “I met Evergreen by chance, and I … talked to her. You remember, the girl with the Stone Eyes Gildarts Clive spoke about.”

“Elfman said she's always on jobs, almost never in the guild”, said Bickslow impassively. “I asked him and Lisanna about her. And – how's she?”

“Well...”, Freed drawled and took in a long breath. “She is smart, I think. And very... uhm, strong-willed.”

Bickslow broke into a laugh despite himself. “Well, Elfman's terrified of her”, he chortled. “Made her sound like a fury.”

Freed cleared his throat. “She isn't the easiest person to talk to, I'll admit that.”

“Better or worse than Mira?”, Bickslow teased. He felt big parts of his annoyance at Freed standing him up at the Cathedral melting.

“About equal”, said Freed quietly, looking scandalised at himself for saying such a thing.

Bickslow only laughed a bit louder. “So, no success with her, then?”

Freed sighed. “Suffice it to say that I know for certain now that she has eye magic, and that I will need a different plan should I intend to talk to her again.”

“I could try if you want to”, Bickslow said easily. “I'm not intimidated by her, and maybe she doesn't like it if you beg her pardon too much.”

He threw a sideways glance at Freed, waiting for the reaction his words would cause, but Freed only wrinkled his forehead.

“She offered me her hand for a kiss when I introduced myself, so I think she appreciates general etiquette”, Freed said pointedly. 

“Oh.” 

“Apart from that, she thinks you're a, and I quote, buffoon.”

“Oh!” Bickslow erupted with laughter, and much to his elation, even Freed had to laugh a little.

“She also called me a, and I quote again, bumble”, he said quietly, but he still smirked. 

Bickslow had to hold his stomach and laughed so loudly now that an elderly man tending to a grave a good forty metres away from them turned around with an angry face. “Doesn't she sound just lovely.”

With a now improving mood, Bickslow let the blue soul fly a few loopings over Freed's head, something the other boy didn't really seem to notice. “Anyway. I remember you wanted to show me something?”, Freed said in a more business-like tone. 

“Yeah.” 

Bickslow had chosen a spot a little to the side, not in between the rows of gravestones. He had a good overview over the area here, and there were a few twigs from the old tree lying around, and a few pebbles that had gotten carried here from the main road. He found a particularly large pebble lying a few metres away, and send the blue soul flying towards it.

Freed, of course, didn't see anything and just looked at him with a somewhat patient form of anticipation. 

“Give me a moment”, Bickslow said. It was one thing letting the souls fly, but what he intended to do now – what he had only figured out about two days ago that he could do at all – required more concentration.

He stopped the soul not a centimetre away from the pebble and concentrated on what he wanted it to do. When the soul started moving again, it felt to Bickslow like rolling a large boulder up a hill, like moving through knee-high snow against the wind. Little by little the soul neared the object, and just as slowly, little by little, he caught it in the pebble. The resistance stopped in an instant, and just as easily as letting the soul do his bidding before, Bickslow lifted the pebble off the ground with his thoughts and let it fly towards them.

Freed, who had not said a word and had just watched him quietly, looked back and forth between Bickslow and the pebble that was now circling around Bickslow's head.

“This is your magic, isn't it”, Freed said quietly, his one visible eye following the pebble was narrowed in concentration. 

“Yep”, said Bickslow, his grin now reaching from one of his ears to the other. “I don't know exactly how it works, but---”

“You lock a soul into an object that serves as its new body”, Freed interrupted him. He had a hand on his chin and nodded very slowly. “Which you then control through controlling the soul. Interesting.”

And as much as Bickslow had wanted a grand moment to boast with his new abilities, Freed's sharp observation was a bit disarming. “Something like that, yeah”, he said, still grinning. “No idea what it's good for, but at least it's a cool trick on a party.”

“Can you accelerate the pebble?”, Freed asked, still in his 'observation mode' with his hand on his chin.

“Uh... sure?” He let the pebble fly around his head faster, which turned out to be a little more difficult for some reason.

“If you can accelerate it only a bit more, you could use this as a sort of missile. With such a tiny object, the force per surface area could be devastating.”

The pebble swerved on its path, nearly hit Bickslow's head and he immediately made it go slower again. “No idea what you're talking about, buddy”, he said, confused. “But I heard the word 'devastating' and that sounds kinda okay.”

Freed's eyes followed the pebble for a while. “It's good progress, in any case”, he then said solemnly. “At least, one of us is making any.”

And as Freed didn't look at him, Bickslow dared to look at his eye. Freed's soul had seemed somewhat more restless these last days, more like back when Bickslow had first met him. Little swirls of a darker blue travelled through it, and sometimes, something darker seemed to erupt from its depth. Like yesterday, when Bickslow had told him about his findings.

“So, no luck in the library”, Bickslow concluded. 

As Freed shook his head, he felt something drop into his stomach. The pebble stopped flying for a second, almost fell to the ground before Bickslow caught it again and let it rest next to his ear. Freed wouldn't stay here. This was really a bad fix. 

“It seems like there are no records on anything like my eye, not even in the most ancient of scrolls that Fairy Tail keeps”, Freed said.

Bickslow only made a somewhat confirmatory noise and looked down to the ground. He hated these kind of decisions, these kind of crossroads when he had to decide between two great things he wanted to have, but couldn't have both at the same time. It meant he had to decide what was more important – a guild with cool people, or...

“When are we leaving?” … or his only friend. Phrased like that, it wasn't difficult at all.

He felt Freed's eyes moving and quickly adjusted his own such that he was looking at Freed's forehead again. “I was under the impression that you preferred to stay”, Freed said, and if Bickslow wasn't mistaken, he smiled mildly. 

“Told you I didn't care”, said Bickslow, only forcing himself a little to sound more casual about this.

Freed took in a deep breath. “Then you won't care either if I told you that I decided to stay in Fairy Tail.”

“What?”, Bickslow burst out, but he could already feel the corner of his mouth moving up into a grin. The thing that had dropped into his stomach dissolved and made him feel a little as if he had eaten a firework. “I thought you hated the place!”

“I never said that”, Freed gave back defiantly. 

Bickslow laughed. “Alright, but you kinda avoided the guild hall.”

“It's loud there and hard to concentrate”, Freed replied.

“So why?”, asked Bickslow. “Why stay?”

“I will admit that I wanted to leave after my talk with Evergreen didn't exactly work out the way I had planed”, Freed said. “But Master Makarov came to talk to me once more and made me realise that... that maybe I'm looking for answers in the wrong place. Look at yourself”, he pointed at the pebble still floating in the air at Bickslow's head. “You've accomplished this without books. It's not my way to dive head first into something, so to say, but bereft of definite knowledge, what else am I supposed to do? I'd rather stay in a guild with a master wise enough to guide me, then. And if nothing else, I think Master Makarov will do that.”

“He's pretty cool for an ancient guy like him, yeah”, said Bickslow, still grinning. Then, he jumped onto his feet, up again and made a backward somersault. “Damn, I'm glad you said that.”

“Not so indifferent about the guild after all”, said Freed smugly and got up onto his feet, as well.

“Never said I didn't like it here”, Bickslow replied with a shrug. “Crazy bunch, and they don't mind giving alcohol to minors.”

“Obviously an important reason to join them”, Freed said, and Bickslow broke out laughing once more. 

He suddenly felt much lighter, and not thoughtful at all any more; even though it seemed unbelievable that this time, he apparently got to have both great things. “Speaking of – we're gonna tell old man Makarov right away, right?”  
“I thought so”, Freed said, and his nod looked a bit like an unspoken 'better now before I change my mind'. From what Bickslow had learned, Fairy Tail had really been very low on his ominous list of importances.

“Okay, let's go!”

Freed only shook his head a little as Bickslow ran ahead, down the rows of gravestones back to main road. 

Already half at the gate, he saw the little pebble still flying next to his head. “Oh, forgot about you, little guy”, he said. 

Fortunately, he'd figured out that freeing souls from their improvised bodies wasn't as hard as locking them into objects. He just needed to stop controlling them, and they'd leave their bodies on their own, and went back to whatever they had done before.

The pebble fell onto the ground as Bickslow released the blue soul from his control, and he expected that it would soar all over the graveyard until it would reach the old tree again. But it didn't; it looked a little like a drunk person wavering back and forth with no idea where to go. It almost moved into the wrong direction, until it finally decided to move back towards its tree very slowly.

Something about this behaviour was unsettling, and Bickslow followed the soul with his eyes for a few rows of gravestones.

“Is everything alright?”, asked Freed, who had stopped as well when Bickslow had.

Unable to explain what he had just seen, Bickslow simply nodded. He hadn't taken hold of a soul for this long before, that was probably it. Maybe it simply got exhausted, like he did after training a new stunt.

“Come on, let's go.”

  


\---

  


“You want to join?”, said Macao and with both his eyebrows raised, looked back and forth between Freed and Bickslow. Then, he sighed. “Alright, then you've got to tell me where you want to have your guild mark, and which colour you like.”

Bickslow looked over to Freed, who returned his gaze with the same somewhat quizzical expression that Bickslow felt on his own face. Macao, meanwhile, had disappeared below the bar.

As he stood back up with a sort of large stamp in his hand, Freed said: “Excuse me, but I thought that Master Makarov had to approve and that there were perhaps some forms to be filled...”

Bickslow snorted. In fact, Freed had wondered out loud what the joining procedure would entail on their way from the cathedral to Fairy Tail. Bickslow had refused to waste thoughts on that, just the fact that they were joining at all had lifted his spirits so much that no street light had been save from him. In the guild hall, they hadn't found Master Makarov, though, and had asked Macao at the bar.

Apparently, Freed's suggestion was rather outlandish, as Macao only laughed at it. “Nah, Master Makarov is fine with just about anyone joining the guild. And it's not as if he doesn't know you two.”

Freed furrowed his brow, but then, let his eye wander over the people still in the taproom. “Well... what are common locations for guild marks, then?”

“Arms”, said Macao plainly, and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to reveal the little birdie-symbol just above his right elbow. “A lot of people have their marks on their arms or shoulder. Or hands. Or chest, even the girls.”

Bickslow had to giggle, but Freed seemed to ignore Macao's words for the moment and still looked around. A few moments later, he said slowly: “I'd like mine in green, please. And...” He looked around a bit more, and Bickslow wondered what the hell he was searching for. But finally, he said: “I think it would be fitting if I could receive the mark on the back of my right hand.”

Macao just shrugged, did something with the handle of the stamp and then lowered it onto Freed's right hand. When he took it away, a birdie in the same colour as Freed's hair rested on his hand, and Freed looked at it with a satisfied smirk. He breathed in deeply, then muttered to himself: “It is done.”

That left Bickslow. Macao turned his attention now towards him, and suddenly, Bickslow remembered that he should have been concerned with his own guild mark, and not with Freed's. Hastily, he looked around the room again. Natsu had his mark on his arm, Erza too. Gray had his on his chest, invisible normally, but he lost his clothes so often it didn't matter anyway. Mira and Lisanna both had theirs on their legs, while Elfman broke the family tradition and had his on his neck. He hadn't seen Cana's so far, and neither Evergreen's. He'd only seen her once, and hadn't felt the particular need to talk to her as she'd been in a row with Erza. Fairy Tail survival rule number one: Don't mess with Erza. He'd seen Gray and Natsu getting into trouble with her quite a bit these last days.

Bickslow had already thought of getting a tattoo someday. A real one, not a messed up ban-stickfigure on his forehead. Something impressive, maybe something really large, somewhere on his arms or chest, maybe. But that hadn't been more than a vague idea. And what use was it getting a tattoo on his arms, anyway – he preferred long-sleeved clothes if he got to choose, a minimal layer of protection since his main source of income used to be performing acrobatics. Not that a single layer of clothes did much on that sector, but it had become a kind of habit that he wanted to go back to. 

And he wanted the guild mark to be seen. The backs of his hands were out of question now that Freed had chosen that spot, and his face was already covered with that blasted stickfigure. He could still ask that old bat Porlyusica to remove it, but... no. It wasn't meant to be removed. 

And there he had another bad fix, the second that day. If he didn't want to get the guild mark right onto his nose, he probably had to live with the fact that nobody would see it unless he did a Gray and stripped, which he didn't intend to. 

But guild marks needed to be seen, so his one needed to be somewhere where he could wag it in front of other people's faces if they didn't believe him, like sticking out his tongue when someone...

_That's it_ , he thought.

A big grin on his face, he turned to Macao and stuck his tongue out at the bartender. “On 'e 'ongue”, he said. Macao's eyes widened in disgust, and Bickslow nearly had to laugh. “An' bwack!”

“Bickslow...”, started Freed, but Bickslow only grinned at him. Then, Freed simply shook his head with a resigned smile.

“Are you sure?”, said Macao carefully, looking at the tattoo on Bickslow's forehead. “I mean... that's... really uncommon.”

“Yep”, replied Bickslow, tongue still sticking out. 

“That's not going to bother him”, said Freed.

“And it's disgusting”, added Macao. But as Bickslow didn't retract his tongue, he sighed, did something at the handle of the stamp, and slowly, as if Bickslow could bite him or had eaten a soup made entirely out of garlic, he lowered the stamp onto Bickslow's tongue. 

It felt cold for a second. Macao immediately went to the kitchen to clean the stamp, and Bickslow tried desperately to stick his tongue out enough such that he could look at it. He only saw something black on the tip, and turned around to Freed.

“An'?”

“It's there. The whole symbol, and black”, said Freed. If he felt repulsed, he did his best to hide it. “Congratulations on joining, Bickslow.”

Bickslow finally retracted his tongue, and snatched Freed's right hand to have a deeper look at the symbol as well. “You too, buddy”, he said. Something in his stomach felt warm and bright, as if he could run around the town twice and wouldn't get tired. Not today.

“I like the look of this thing”, said Bickslow. “Though I don't get why it's a bird.”

“A bird?”, repeated Freed disbelievingly. Then, with his left hand, he pointed at what Bickslow had taken as the beak and said: “That's the head, and here are the wings, and the tail. This is a fairy, Bickslow.”

“Oh”, said Bickslow, leant over the bar and grabbed a polished spoon. He stuck his tongue out at himself, and saw the black symbol of a Fairy on it. Finally, after so much time in Crocus, he'd be part of something this big again. “Make 'ense.”

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie - the second scene of this chapter is the first one I wrote for this entire story. It underwent some adjustments, of course, but in principle, I always had this scene in mind when I thought of Freed and Bickslow joining Fairy Tail.  
> The idea that the position of the guild mark of the Fairy Tail members has some sort of symbolism behind it is not mine, though. I don't know where I read about it, but it stuck with me and also became a basis for this chapter.


	14. Small Steps

The days that followed their decision to join Fairy Tail were rich in variety, which, all in all, was rather refreshing. 

It had cost Freed a not insubstantial effort at persuading himself that joining Fairy Tail would not mean that he would never travel to different countries in search of more definite answers to all the questions he still had about his magic. Books had always served him well. Accepting that they might not be able to teach him about an integral part of his own being still felt as if he was left standing on top of the highest tower of his father's castle with someone telling him to jump with only a mattress dozens of metres down on the ground there to catch him. But on the other hand, he had been on the run for a while already, and not knowing where to stop and where to go wasn't a feeling he yearned to repeat. Master Makarov was right, maybe a big part of learning about his magic was experience, and gaining a bit performing work for Fairy Tail was at least a good start.

Though Freed was left wondering more than once with what kind of jobs people contacted Fairy Tail with. He and Bickslow took a few of the simpler jobs first; helped merchants stock their market stands, gathered herbs in one of the close forests, dived into Lake Sciliora to find a trinket someone had lost while fishing. Most of the jobs only required a minimal amount of magic, which came as another surprise for Freed.

“I think we should select our next job more carefully”, he said to Bickslow one evening as they returned to the guild hall. They had just helped a wealthy old merchant to get his cat back; it had apparently jumped onto a very high tree and had been too frightened to come back down on its own. “I appreciate what we have done so far in terms of getting into the routine of performing jobs for the guild, but none of our previous jobs has posed a real challenge.”

Bickslow laughed out. “Depends on what kinda challenge you're looking for”, he said easily. “I wanna see you climb on a tree like that next time.”

“Then I want to see how you locate a lost amulet in the lake”, Freed gave back plainly. Bickslow laughed out another time and locked his arms behind his head. “But that is not the sort of challenge I've been talking about. I meant that none of the jobs we've picked strictly required any magic.”

“Probably for the better, buddy”, Bickslow said, his words wrapped in a sigh. “I still can't get the hang of making the stones fly faster like you said.”

“But I'm not going to improve without a chance to gauge where I stand in a scenario that involves magic”, Freed said, and from the corner of his eye saw Bickslow rolling his. “And neither are you.”

“Who says that I wanna”, Bickslow muttered, rather unconvincingly. His hand wandered over a pouch he carried, filled with coin from the thankful merchant. 

“I was under the impression you enjoyed your progress”, Freed said, though knowing that as enthusiastic as Bickslow had been at first about his newly found ability to lock souls into objects, the disappointing it had been for him to realise that he didn't continue to make easy progress like this. At the very least, being able to pay off his debts with Freed after earning money on his own had left him in an overall good mood. 

Bickslow said nothing until they climbed up the large staircase leading up to the part of town in which Fairy Tail's guild hall stood. “What kinda job are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing too complicated”, Freed said quickly. “Just something where our abilities as wizards are needed.”

“That could be anything”, Bickslow drawled. 

“Well, I know as much as you do about common jobs in a wizarding guild”, said Freed patiently. It appeared to him like that had had that discussion about a hundred times now. “I would have bet all my money that rescuing kittens wasn't amongst them, and here we are.”

His words didn't miss their target. With a sudden and very shrill sound, Bickslow was laughing once more. “As if you'd bet on anything. First signs of Fairy Tail's bad influence on you?”

They spent the remaining way in a considerably more light-hearted mood, and Bickslow provided them with a comical imitation of their old client and his begs to rescue his cat. Freed felt a little guilty laughing at them; overall, the old man had been rather generous and had definitely worried a lot about his cat. 

In the guild hall, they informed Wakaba at the bar that they had been successful, which was part of the routine when taking and completing jobs for the guild. After that, Freed agreed to have dinner first, even though his eyes were torn to the board with the job offers. It was almost never empty, at any time Freed had looked at it, at the very least two dozens of different requests were on display and someone was standing in front of the board, reading and contemplating which one to take next. He would have liked to pick a job first, but considering he wanted to keep Bickslow's mood up, eating seemed like a good idea. 

In light of his newly filled pouch, Bickslow ordered a particularly large meal that evening. He generally had a rather hearty appetite. But then again, he was looking healthier and less thin with each good meal he was getting, so Freed had decided to overlook his unpleasant habits of not using cutlery and speaking with his a full mouth. 

When he followed Freed to the job board, he still had a mug of apple wine in hand and licked the remainders of his food from his lips. “'Need help finding the location of rare Heartwood'”, read Bickslow out loud. “'Payment at success, interested parties contact Alfred H. Corn in Lutea'”

Freed let his eyes wander to see the offer Bickslow was studying. “It's an A-class job”, Freed said. “Which makes sense, considering that Heartwood is said to only grow in those areas where the forests are thickest. A lot of dangerous creatures will reside there, as well.”

“We've got experience with thick forests”, said Bickslow casually, but Freed heard from the tone of his voice that he wasn't really considering the job, either. 

“We are probably talking about a far less domesticated area than the forest around Aconite”, said Freed.

He studied an offer from the lower half of the board, one that asked for an escort of merchant goods to Hargeon. Before he could inform Bickslow about it, though, the sound of marching feet in heeled shoes told him that they were getting company. Both he and Bickslow looked over their shoulders to find a girl in a flowing green dress and with sandy brown pigtails coming nearer. 

Not even a single movement of her body indicated that Evergreen knew, had already talked to or even acknowledged neither his nor Bickslow's existence. She forced her way in between the two of them such that she stood now in front of the centre of the board, hands stemmed into her hips.

Bickslow, who was significantly taller than her, glared at her and wiped apple wine from his chin. He hadn't made room for Evergreen like Freed had, and their collision had spilled parts of his beverage over his face and his new black shirt. “ _Hey, mind if I have a look, too?_ ”, he said in an awfully high-pitched tone. “Hey sure, no problem, but thanks for asking”, he added, now in his normal voice.

Evergreen's head snapped into his direction and she glared at him now quite the same. Freed hadn't seen her around the guild hall since their odd first attempt at a talk with one another, and as far as he knew, Bickslow hadn't talked to her at all. 

“I've been watching you, you've been standing in front of the board for at least five minutes without making a choice”, Evergreen said coolly. “Don't complain if someone's more decisive than you.”

Bickslow crossed his arms on his chest with his mug still in hand and rolled his eyes. “Then take your pick and get lost”, he grumbled.

“You're not telling _me_ what to do”, Evergreen said with a snarl, yanked her head back to the board and began studying the job offers just like the two of them.

Bickslow let out a snort, and looked as if he wanted to say something, but Freed gestured him to let it be and turned his attention back to the board. Evergreen was standing in between them now, stiff and hardly moving.

Minutes crept by in an awkward silence, until Freed had found something worth their attention. “Look at this, Bickslow”, he said loudly over Evergreen's back. Bickslow craned his neck and looked over to him. “'Please help: Every night, mysterious glowing creatures haunt our houses and steal of our savings. Wizards needed for investigation', signed by the village of Trifoil. And it's a C-class job.”

“You are not taking this job”, Evergreen suddenly said, straightening her back. Freed was surprised by how forceful she sounded. 

“Why not”, said Bickslow, who walked around her now and came to stand next to Freed, arms still crossed on his chest. “'Cause you say so?”

“Because I want it”, she replied.

“Well, Freed can't read minds”, Bickslow said. “And neither can I.”

“Evergreen”, Freed now said in what he thought was a calming voice. “I am sorry, I didn't know you wanted this job, as well. I'm sure we can find a solution.”

Evergreen, however, laughed out affectedly. “And what would that be? Going on a job with you two idiots?” She mustered Bickslow now, her eyes narrowing with every centimetre; from his bare feet and bandaged ankles to the varying shades of blue and purple of his trousers, sash and suspenders that clashed with each other, to the apple wine spots on his shirt, to his tattoo and the odd new haircut that somehow involved very short hair on the sides and long hair on top of his head. “I wouldn't be caught dead with either of you.”

“You don't even know us!”, Bickslow exclaimed. He returned Evergreen's stare just as fiercely, two pair of so different green, magical eyes looking at each other with utmost disdain.

“And I can very well live without”, Evergreen hissed, grabbed a piece of parchment from the board without looking and marched off accompanied by the sound of her heels.

“What a bitch”, said Bickslow. “No wonder Elfman thinks she's a fury, if she's like that with everyone.”

“I don't know”, Freed said in a resigned voice. So far, he hadn't given up on the idea of talking to Evergreen again, but his chances didn't seem to increase every time they met. “She... uhm, doesn't seem to be around very much.”

“Probably for the better”, muttered Bickslow.

Freed looked at the board again determined to find a different job. But that turned out to be unnecessary. “But she didn't take the job from Trifoil”, he said to Bickslow and gestured to the board. The offer was still there, but the place next to it was empty. 

“Then that's ours”, Bickslow said and snatched it off the board as if he meant business.

Freed, however, wondered a little about Evergreen's decision. The job she had chosen hadn't been a moderately challenging C-class, but an A-class.

  


\---

  


Freed spent the evening once again in his room in the tavern looking at the map they had bought in Clivia. Though he knew the name Trifoil from several of his lessons in business and history, it hadn't come up in his geography lessons, and Bickslow hadn't heard of it, either. According to the map, it was a village deep in the forest to Magnolia's east, perhaps larger than Aconite but not by a large margin. 

Of course, the job description was rather vague, and it seemed a little foolish to get into a vague situation as their first real job. However, Freed relied on the classification; a C meant average difficulty, and he was sure he could deal with average. An A, on the other hand, meant high difficulty, only surpassed by the extraordinarily difficult S-class jobs. They seemed to have an almost mystical meaning to their name, Freed had heard a few people talking about these missions in awe. Only S-class mages were allowed on these missions, the best of the best; wizards who had passed an examination that qualified them for these elite tasks. Of all of Fairy Tail's numerous members, only Gildarts Clive could call himself an S-class mage, and some of the other members spoke his name in the same mystical reverence that they used to speak about S-class missions.

Not withstanding these S-class jobs, Evergreen had picked the a job in the highest difficulty and apparently went on it alone. This thought popped up in Freed's head quite often during the evening. She must have been very confident in her abilities, after all, she was about his own age and hadn't been in Fairy Tail much longer than Freed and Bickslow had. Of course, Freed also aimed at taking jobs of a higher difficulty in the future, but they didn't seem like the best option for a start since he still needed to gauge his abilities and what 'average difficulty' meant in a practical scenario. 

Another thought sometimes came up in his mind with regards to Evergreen on that evening. She hadn't really looked as she had taken the job, and he wondered if, in that case, it wouldn't be fairer to seek her out and offer to take her along, even though she seemed opposed to the very idea of sharing this job.

The next morning, he met Bickslow in the guild hall, scarfing down his breakfast and a backpack standing on the chair next to him. Freed had already had his share in the tavern, had packed his things and joined him.

“Have you seen Evergreen around?”, asked Freed after a bit of small talk. 

“No”, said Bickslow curtly. “Why?”

“I have been thinking that she might not have wanted to take the job she chose”, Freed said. 

“Don't you think we'd know that by now?”, Bickslow drawled. “She doesn't exactly seem the shy and introverted type.”

“You're probably right”, Freed gave back, very willing to believe that if Evergreen would have wanted the job they were going to do, she would have likely let them know. Then, she really must have been that confident in her abilities. Good for her.

Freed convinced Bickslow to take a look at the library before leaving town, and soon, he found himself in the irritating situation of trying to read up on local information about the region around Trifoil while Bickslow was sitting on his desk dangling his feet in the air. In the end, it took him at least half an hour longer to gather information than it would have without the distraction.

The forenoon had half passed as the two of them finally left Fairy Tail towards the train station. Trifoil lay in the upper parts of the forest, which were reached easiest by taking the train towards Onibus and going into the forest from there. It was a rather quiet journey; they reached Onibus in the early afternoon and followed a trade route that lead to Trifoil into the forest. They exchanged a few theories on what the job could really be about, but none of them seemed to make much sense to Freed.

“What about will-o'-the-wisps?”, said Bickslow. “They're small and they glow.”

“Have you ever actually come across one?”, Freed said. “They are supposed to live in swamp areas, but I doubt they're more than a legend. All records of incidents with these creatures are at least a century old.”

“A guy from the circus swears he saw one, once”, Bickslow said with a shrug. “We were camping out near a swamp. Were sitting around the campfire as that guy suddenly jumped up, vanished into the swamp and came back screaming he'd seen a will-o'-the-wisp.”

“Why would he just run into the swamp?”

“The cook made some nasty bean soup that evening”, Bickslow said slyly. “Half of the circus was jumping up at random times and---”

Freed cleared his throat in such an obvious manner that Bickslow simply had to hear him. He didn't need this conversation going there.

“Anyway”, said Bickslow, now choking on a few giggles. “I went to look at them myself, you know. The will-o'-the-wisps.” His giggles died down, and in a more serious voice, he continued: “But all I saw where a few souls wandering over the swamp. Probably of people who died there.”

“Then what did the other man see?”, said Freed. 

“A will-o'-the-wisp?” Bickslow shrugged and looked at Freed now. “Maybe they look like souls, and I just didn't know?”

“Or the other man saw nothing”, Freed conceded. “Or something else, like the flickering of a torch.” The way Bickslow harrumphed at that told Freed that he preferred his own interpretation. “There is no swamp near Trifoil, however”, Freed said, deciding to change the topic back to their job. “I doubt that whatever the people of Trifoil are seeing is a will-o'-the-wisp, may it exist or not.”

“More or less likely than the fireflies?”, Bickslow said hopefully.

“Less”, said Freed. Fireflies had been – so far – the most illogical explanation for the vague description of a problem on the job offer. 

“Well it has to be something”, Bickslow said eloquently. “Can't be a giant joke.”

They were nearing Trifoil now, the street was getting busier, and after the next turn of the road, Freed could make out a gatehouse at the end of it. It could be a very idyllic scenery, houses made out of white stone, enclosed by a giant fence with a metallic gate, more like the residence of a noble than a simple village. The light that fell onto the village had a decidedly greenish tint to it because trees were growing everywhere, even within the town, giant tress that spread their crowns over the houses. Over the gate, a golden sign stated 'Welcome to Trifoil!' adorned by one three-leave clover on either side of the lettering.  
Freed caught Bickslow's eyes as they were entering. “There is a mine a little further into the forest, and it belongs to Trifoil. The ground is rich in minerals and marble; and the village has become wealthy by trading it with Bosco.” And, as Bickslow's astonished look came to a rest on him now, Freed added: “I read that up in the morning.”

“Explains why those creatures want to steal their savings, then”, Bickslow said. “They surely must have _a lot_.”

“The job description says we should talk to mayor Ornua.” Freed checked the paper again to make sure, and seeing that he was right, gestured towards where he suspected the town hall to be.

Bickslow's eyes followed his hands, and after a few seconds in which he stared blankly onto the house Freed was pointing had, he let out a low whistle. “Golden gutters, really?”

Indeed, Freed had found the town hall amongst all the other buildings because it was the largest around, looked even more pristinely white and had a roof with the distinct look of patina-covered copper. And, indeed, golden gutters. 

In front of the town hall was a small plaza with market stands, a neatly cut back, perfectly circular hedge in the centre surrounding an obelisk of even more white marble; something Freed would have expected in Crocus, not in a village in the middle of a forest.

There was a guard clad in an all-green uniform at the entrance of the town hall. Freed introduced himself to her, showed her the job request and asked to see the mayor. 

“I didn't think Fairy Tail would send more than one wizard...” The look she gave him was a little bemused, but she opened the door to the town hall for him and Bickslow and let them in. 

Freed and Bickslow's eyes met another time, and Bickslow's eyebrows had vanished below the chunk of hair that was still covering his forehead. “I thought it's just you and---”

“I demand to be let in now!”, thundered a voice a few metres ahead of them, down the tall corridor leading away from the entrance hall they now stood in. 

Freed couldn't suppress a sigh, this explained a lot.

“I have been waiting for almost four hours now, and you promised that mayor Ornua would receive me!”

“I am sorry, Miss. The mayor has only returned to town a few moments ago, I'm sure he will be there for you any time now”, said someone else, apparently a man.

“Ah, that lovely voice”, muttered Bickslow as they continued their way towards the sources of the argument. 

“I damn well hope so!”, Evergreen exclaimed. 

Freed could see her arguing with a young man now; tall and wearing very strong glasses and carrying a clipboard. He seemed most uncomfortable, and his red hair was in stark contrast to his green robes. It were different robes than the one of the guard, and Freed concluded that he wasn't one; in fact, he reminded him a bit of his brother Hal and so he guessed that maybe, this man was a scribe or a secretary.

“Your village requested assistance, and though I'm here, nobody cared to---” But Evergreen's last words remained unsaid as she saw Freed and Bickslow coming nearer. With an exasperated sigh, she crossed her arms on her chest and yanked her head away.

It was best to deal with the situation as unexcited as possible. “I beg your pardon”, Freed said politely to the young man she had been arguing with and made a small bow. Then, he took out the job offer another time. “We are Fairy Tail mages and we came to speak with mayor Ornua about the task described in here.”

The young man frowned, looked at Evergreen and then at Bickslow and Freed before he read the paper Freed was handing him. 

“This seems legitimate”, he said then, his eyes moving over to Evergreen again. “Weren't you telling me you lost the job description on your way here?”

Evergreen's ears went a shade of red that matched the man's hair and she huffed. “Well, I have!”, she said, glaring daggers at Freed and Bickslow.

Bickslow couldn't contain himself any longer and started laughing, his tongue rolling out of his mouth. The young man acted like he didn't care though Freed read from his frown that he didn't approve, either. Like so many others, he mustered Bickslow's odd apparel, but when his eyes landed on the guild mark etched into Bickslow's tongue, he looked over to Freed and found the guild mark on his outstretched hand. 

“I see you two are indeed Fairy Tail mages”, he said in a very business-like tone. “Whatever happened to your job description, Miss, I don't think it's relevant if you're a guild member, as well. I don't particularly care if one or three wizards are taking the job.”

Suddenly, Evergreen grabbed the front of her blouse and a slight shade of pink moved over her face. “I'm not showing you my guild mark!”

In a very Hal-like and not very discreet manner, the young man rolled his eyes. “Look, you showed up without the actual offer, I have no proof that you're an actual guild member and you've been demanding entry for four hours now even though the mayor hasn't even been in town until now”, he said in what was probably supposed to be a placating tone. “You're making it very hard for me.”

Bickslow, who had chortled and giggled the whole time, erupted into a very shrill laughter that had Evergreen direct her stoniest glare at him now. “Sorry, I guess that ship went down for you, sister”, he said.

“Then I have to ask you to---”

“I can vouch for her”, Freed interrupted. 

The young man immediately looked at him now, Bickslow stopped laughing, and even Evergreen forgot to look affronted.

“She's a Fairy Tail member like Bickslow and I”, said Freed calmly. “We were talking about taking the job yesterday, and she must have come here before us to settle matters and save time.”

The young man raised a brow at Freed, but then sighed nearly unnoticeably. “Very well, then”, he said. He took a pen from the clipboard and started to write. “I need your names, as well, gentlemen. I will talk to the mayor on your behalf.”

“I'm Freed Justine”, Freed replied, glad that he could focus on the young man now and didn't have to look at Evergreen or Bickslow. “This is Bickslow, and I think you already had the fortune of meeting Evergreen.”

“Thank you. Now, would you please wait in the entrance hall, I will be back soon.” With these words, the man nodded at them in turn and walked briskly down the corridor towards a green door with a golden handle and knocked.

As soon as he had entered and the door had closed, Bickslow and Evergreen simultaneously said: “Why?”

Bickslow left it at that, but Evergreen added: “Why did you lie?”

Freed searched for something in her voice or her face that he had thought to have seen before, but didn't find it. She was back to glaring at him and her voice had turned stony again.

“I didn't exactly lie, I simply assumed that saving us time is the reason you're here”, Freed said plainly, very aware that nobody in the room – him included – believed that as Evergreen's reason to appear in Trifoil before them. “And you wanted to be on this job.”

Bickslow snorted in exasperation, and Evergreen narrowed her eyes at him before she marched off back into the entrance hall. “Don't get the wrong idea and think I owe you or anything”, she grumbled. 

The thought would have never crossed Freed's mind. Instead, he thought of the sudden hurt in her eyes as the man had been about to tell her to leave that had vanished almost in an instant afterwards. 

There was a reason she wanted to be here this badly, and he would figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's high time the three Raijinshuu-to-be get to meet properly!


	15. In Line

The entrance area of Trifoil's town hall was a room Freed would have expected in a Lord's castle. Not just the outside of the building was made from pure white marble, but also all of the inner walls. The floor was covered in thick, green carpets that almost looked like a lush meadow on a hillside, though far more domesticated and cared for. No traces or stains were on the carpet, like nobody had ever set a foot on it, not even in the places that Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen had walked over. The tapestries and curtains were of different, but fitting, shades of green, as were the cushions on the golden chairs that lined up on the walls in between statues of even more white marble and various indoor plants in golden pots. The pictures on the walls showing landscapes and multiple different paintings of the same rather corpulent man were put in golden frames, and Freed only didn't wonder about the lavishness of the whole room as he remembered the golden gutters.

Bickslow had almost immediately fallen down on one of the chairs on a window overlooking the town square, and Evergreen was inspecting the statues and plants. Neither of them spoke, but Evergreen's silence was the most staunch one he'd recently seen. Her lips were pressed together tightly, and while she walked through the room from exhibit to exhibit she again behaved as if Freed and Bickslow simply didn't exist.

For the moment, Freed assumed that was about as good as it could get. He wanted to know why she was so insistent on being here, but he wouldn't make the mistake again of simply asking. It was better to wait until they had their reception with the mayor.

Freed didn't have to think a lot about what kind of person the mayor probably was. All of the pictures of the corpulent man were labelled with 'Barclay Ornua – 12th Mayor of Trifoil'. On every picture, he wore dark green robes with golden fur trimmings, a broad golden necklace that seemed tight around his neck and multiple rings adorned his sturdy fingers. A few of the older pictures showed the man with thick auburn hair, but the more recent ones had the top of his head almost always covered with a hat fitting to his robes. The strands in his neck seemed thinner in these pictures. The length of his beard had also changed over time, from barely covering his chin to almost reaching onto his chest; he must have been in office for quite a while already. What had never changed, apparently, was the way the mayor looked at the viewer of his paintings; his head ever so slightly tilted back such that he had to look a little downwards at everyone, smiling in an almost too friendly manner.

“Stop it!”, screeched Evergreen suddenly. 

Before Freed could turn around towards her and Bickslow and say anything, though, a cold and hot shower that briefly washed over his back answered the question about the ongoings in the room for him. 

He still saw Bickslow pushing his glasses back onto his nose. Evergreen, hands stemmed into her hips, had planted herself in front of his chair and glared down at him. “What did you do?”, she demanded.

Bickslow met her eyes in an almost casual manner. “Checked a few things”, he said. “No need to get worked up about it.”

“'Checked'?”, repeated Evergreen. “What do you mean with 'checked'? Tell me what you did – I felt something in my back and I'm sure it was you!”

“Just looked at your soul”, Bickslow said and shrugged. “It's my ma---”

“What?”, Evergreen cried. “My soul?! Did you hex me? Am I going to get warts now? Or have bad luck for the rest of my life?”

“Did I … what?”, Bickslow replied in utter confusion, but his voice was getting louder, as well. “Warts...? I don't... I don't go around hexing people! I just looked, nothing's gonna happen to you.”

“Then freaking look somewhere else!”, Evergreen thundered. When she turned around to march back to the statue she had been inspecting, her eyes landed on Freed. He must have looked a little too knowing, because she said: “Did he hex you too?”

“I don't hex people!”, Bickslow said just as loud as her and jumped up from his chair. 

Freed felt it was best to intervene, because Evergreen had an expression in her face that looked like she wanted to reply something, probably raising her voice again to be louder than Bickslow. “No, he doesn't hex people, Evergreen”, Freed said calmly. “Whatever that means. But I did mention that Bickslow, like you and me, possesses eye magic.”

There wasn't even a little sign of interest or excitement on her face. “I don't care”, she hissed, but thankfully, also more quiet than before. Then, she turned her head and glanced directly at Freed. “You just have to take one look at his eyes to know they're evil.”

Bickslow froze up on the spot, hands clenching into fists at his side. “Say that again”, he said. He sounded so calm and almost monotonous, reminiscent of the chill that always moved through Freed when he looked at him without the glasses.

“Bickslow---”

But Evergreen, obviously satisfied, smirked a bit. “They're evil. Your eyes are evil”, she said sweetly. Something about the expression in her eyes, though, seemed familiar to Freed. 

Bickslow looked at the carpet at his feet, his fists shaking and breathing in deeply. “Stay calm, Bickslow. This isn't the place for a fight”, Freed said to contain the situation. It would be very unwise to let this escalate.

But Evergreen giggled into her hand, mirthless but clearly amused by having landed a victory against Bickslow. It wasn't without effect. “So what”, Bickslow growled. He unclenched his fists and his posture became less rigid, but he still looked onto the carpet. “They're still my eyes, can't do anything about it.”

He touched his forehead, probably without wanting to, and marched back to his chair, ostensibly casual. “Just wait 'till we figure out what your eyes do”, he shot over his shoulder to Evergreen, in an almost too nonchalant tone. “And then we talk again.”

“As if I'll ever tell you”, said Evergreen scathingly, diverted her attention back to the statue.

The air between the two seemed suddenly a few degrees colder, and Freed decided it was for the best he stayed with Bickslow for a moment and looked out of the window. Nobody seemed to have taken note of their squabble so far, and it was best it remained that way.

Something rather odd seemed to be taking place on the town square now. Many people were lining up in a queue walking towards the Obelisk now, all wearing very solemn expressions. Some of them were carrying wooden crates with elaborate golden locks, some were fidgeting with jewellery; with rings on their fingers, bracelets and necklaces. Each and every of the people stopped at the Obelisk, some bowed, others went down on their knees as if praying. But all of them laid down something; the crates, their jewellery, little pouches that looked suspiciously like the one Hal and Coen had given Freed as he had left his father's castle. 

Next to Freed, Bickslow wrinkled his brows. “What's that supposed to be out there?”, he said, his voice rather quiet. “Some sort of parade?”

“I haven't seen many parades, but it seems unlikely”, said Freed. At the Obelisk, a woman went down on her knees, hands locked like in a prayer. Then, she pulled a golden comb out of her hair and laid it down onto the ground. “These people seem... almost devout.”

Bickslow made a harsh noise that sounded like a tea kettle. “Local traditions, then”, he said. 

From behind them, the footsteps and hushes voices announced the arrival of two people. Evergreen, who had stared at the happenings outside as well, but from a different window, had a look around and met Freed's eyes. Then, she changed into a perfectly polite expression and straight position on a chair as far away from him and Bickslow as she could get away with just as two figures entered the entrance hall. At the front, a very tall and very corpulent man walked, thinning auburn hair hidden under a green hat and a golden necklace around his thick neck. Behind him, a young man with a clipboard pushed the glasses up his nose and then looked up to the three wizards waiting for him and his companion. Freed nudged Bickslow into the side, who had still looked at the procession outside and hadn't taken much note of the other people. Then got up and bowed politely.

Mayor Ornua's eyes mustered all three of them and rested especially long on Bickslow, but also longer on Evergreen than on Freed. Then, he expectantly turned to the young man at his side, who discreetly cleared his throat before he raised his voice. “Ladies and gentleman; Barclay Ornua, 12th Mayor of Trifoil.”

For a brief moment, mayor Ornua looked over to them, and Freed bowed another time. “We are honoured to meet you, mayor Ornua.”

“We are honoured to have you, mages of Fairy Tail”, replied the mayor in a voice that was like sugar trickling down a grater; almost soft and welcoming, but just almost. “Alas, I fear your services are not needed.”

Bickslow, who still had had his head half-turned to the window, yanked it to the mayor. Freed, for a moment distracted by the way the young man behind the mayor shifted uncomfortably in his boots, didn't answer – and Evergreen was faster.

“What?”, she said in a brisk voice that didn't fit the polite way she tried to look. “I'm sorry?”

“You heard correctly, Miss...” The mayor looked over to his assistant, waved his hand expectantly.

“Evergreen, Sir.”

“Miss Evergreen. Your services are not needed. In fact, the whole job proposal to Fairy Tail was a mistake. I apologise for your efforts, but I have to ask you to return to Magnolia as soon as possible.”

Evergreen raised her voice another time, but this time, Freed cut her off. “I beg your pardon, Sir. May I ask if your... problem, with the creatures that steal your possessions, is already solved?”

“I'm afraid I cannot talk about matters pertaining this town with strangers”, the mayor answered straightening the collar of his robe. “In fact, I never authorised this job request.”

The young assistant next to the mayor shifted another time, and looked pointedly at his clipboard. “We made a mistake”, he then said, rather unconvincingly. “In the administration, you know how it is.”

“You heard my assistant”, said the mayor, in rougher tone. He mustered the three of them another time, his face inviting everyone of them to speak while his eyes prompted them to stay silent. “If you have no more questions...”

“I have one, if you excuse me”, Freed said quickly. “The job proposal listed you as the contact in Trifoil, Sir, how can this be---”

The mayor focussed entirely on him now. “An error in administration”, he said. “And we are very sorry for it, aren't we, Trent?”

His assistant now made an elaborate bow himself. “Very sorry. If you allow, mayor, I'll accompany the young mages back to the gate.”

Something in the eyes of the mayor seemed to glint for a moment, anger maybe. But then, perfectly composed, he said: “Very well. Good day to you, mages of Fairy Tail.” And with grand strides that could rival Bickslow's, the mayor left the entrance hall.

Evergreen jumped from her chair as soon as the mayor had left them, and thankfully, not earlier. “What a shame!”, she spat. “I've wasted a whole day and probably more on a bureaucratic error!”

The assistant only now straightened up from his bow, send her a dispassionate look. “And we have apologised. Now, will you please follow me outside?”

His voice allowed no words on the contrary, and as he marched out of the room, Freed, Bickslow and a still rather irritated Evergreen followed him. As the doors of the town hall closed behind them, Freed caught him looking over the people on the town square and breathing in as if to collect himself.

Silently, he lead the three of them over the plaza, where still people were lining up to put valuables in front of the Obelisk. It appeared as if the young man was rather well known, many people turned their heads to the four of them, some of them pointing at the mayor's assistant. As they nearly reached the street leading to the gate, a woman broke out of the line and came hurrying towards them. She was older than the assistant, and her dark, curly hair stood up from her head in every possible direction. She wore simpler clothes than many others in the line, a blue overall over a formerly white but now dirty greyish shirt.

She didn't even bother with a greeting, just fell into step next to the young assistant, head turned up to him. “And? How'd it go?”

“I'm accompanying them back to the gate, Addy”, the assistant said placidly. 

The way they spoke and how the woman, Addy, snorted in frustration, made Freed look over to Bickslow, who wrinkled his brow again and shrugged a little. 

“So all in vain”, said Addy. Then, as if remembering something, she added: “Did he fire you? Please say he didn't, Niv. I couldn't live with myself if my idea costs you your job.”

“I'm fine”, said the assistant, but he grimaced. “But my next pay rise may have to wait a few more years.”

“Bugger him”, grunted Addy. “Not going to vote for him in the next election, you've got my word on it.”

The assistant laughed weakly.

“Sorry, Niv”, said Addy again. “I thought when they're here there's nothing else he can do than make it official.”

“We don't have to discuss that now, Addy.”

“Sorry?”, said Evergreen coldly. She walked a few steps behind Bickslow and Freed. “Is our presence interrupting something private?”

“We're listening, you know”, Bickslow said casually. “So if you're 'them' means 'us', might as well admit it.”

With a half-guilty expression, Addy turned around to them, walking backwards to keep up with the assistant now. She shrugged. “Sorry, we're really not all that polite, aren't we? It's just all so frustrating, really; that the mayor doesn't want to do nothing about it all.”

“There's nothing you can change about that now”, said the assistant, then looked over his shoulder to Freed. “We should not have talked like this in front of you, forgive me. We will reach the gate soon.”

“So you are not explaining this ridiculous situation any further?”, Evergreen huffed. 

“What is there to explain?”, said the assistant. “You will not get this job, anyway. You don't need to know more.”

“Because your 'administrative error' sounded totally convincing”, Bickslow said. 

“He's right”, said Evergreen. “That's the sort of thing people say when they're covering up something.”

“Like parades in the town square”, added Bickslow.

The assistant stopped in his tracks, obviously scandalised. Addy, however, giggled a little. “Smart ones, they'd been right for the job, I bet. Listen, I've to get back to the others, but maybe tell them a little more, will you, Niv?”

She waved at the four of them and hurried back towards the plaza.

The young assistant nodded towards her in a farewell gesture of his own, then turned back to Freed and the others. “I still don't see why any of this should be relevant to you.”

“Maybe because the job was about finding creatures that steal valuables, and the people in the town square look like they're offering their valuables at the Obelisk”, Freed said carefully.

The assistant ran his hand through his hair, a fight seemingly happening behind his eyes.

“All right”, he then said, looked around and then gestured them to a small alley between a goldsmith and a bakery. “But I don't have much time, the mayor is waiting for me.”

“You are his assistant?”, Freed asked, though the question was redundant. 

“Yes. I never introduced myself properly, either, didn't I? I'm Nivalius Trent, assistant to the mayor of Trifoil”, the young man said. Then, he sighed a little, looked around once more and added in a whisper: “And it was me who sent out the job requests to the surrounding guilds.”

Freed nodded, he had already anticipated this.

“But the job request said it was mayor Ornua”, Evergreen inquired.

“Yes, it did.” Nivalius Trent lifted a hand to massage his forehead. “It was Addy's idea, and I'm not saying that to blame her, mind you. She suggested that if the mayor was presented with fait accompli, he wouldn't have a choice but to finally let someone investigate. Trifoil has no wizard guilds on its own, you see. And I agreed to it, so this is just as much on my account.”

“Hang on a moment”, said Evergreen, and her voice had taken on an almost hopeful note, “Does that mean that the job request was genuine...?”

“It was, and it still is”, admitted Trent. 

Evergreen looked as if she wanted to jump into the air with joy, something that Bickslow sometimes did, but she had a much better impulse control and refrained. 

“So there are glowing creatures stealing your stuff every night?”, said Bickslow.

“I'm afraid so.”

“And the events on the town square”, said Freed, putting two and two together. “Are you collecting loot for the creatures?”

A sad smile moved over the face of Nivalius Trent. “Almost correct. Initially, the creatures just stole from our houses; collected whatever valuables the people had lying about. But a few weeks ago, they changed their modus operandi, and now, they require that we collect a certain... payment, for them and leave it at the Obelisk. The procedure happens once a week, and at the end of the night, everything we collected is just gone.”

“And why would you do what they tell you to?”, said Bickslow. “I mean – a few glowing creatures, what're they going to do if you just... I don't know. Lock your valuables away?”

At this, Trent gave a hollow laugh. “A few of the townspeople asked themselves the same thing. And at first, we thought it worked – no stolen items in a week. But then...”, he sighed deeply, “... then, three earthquakes happened in rapid succession and buried the entrance to an old marble mine. A … sort of message arrived that if we weren't complying, the entry that would be buried next would be the one to the mine Trifoil is currently using. Our trade is dependent on our marble mines, you see. Without them, Trifoil could hardly retain its status.”

“They blackmail you?”, Evergreen said, sounding very sceptical. “These creatures use _blackmail_?”

“It appears so”, Trent gave back. “The mayor is deeply concerned about this, and is adamant we follow the instructions of the creatures to the letter. Which is why he refused any initiative for us to call for help. He is afraid that any transgressions might lead to more significant earthquakes.”

“Do you think the creatures are responsible for the earthquakes?”, asked Freed. It seemed unlikely.

“Maybe, maybe not. But they are linked. Addy and a few other mine workers protested against the new rules these creatures set, and a few days later, a side entry to our main mine collapsed in a small earthquake. Earthquakes aren't normal for this region of Fiore.”

“And since the mayor refuses action, you took the matter into your own hands”, Freed concluded.

“Exactly. I can't let Trifoil bleed out like this; it's true that trade with Bosco has made us quite wealthy, but at the rate these creatures are taking our reserves, we'll be in the red soon and I don't want to see that happen. On the other hand, though, without official sanction, I cannot employ you.”

“Then I'll stay without getting paid”, Evergreen said quickly. Freed and Bickslow, quite shocked, turned around to her. Her face looked almost set into stone, determination gleaming in her eyes. “I can take another job for the money, no problem.”

A small smile tugged at Trent's thin lips. “That is very generous of you. However, the mayor wants you to leave quickly.”

“Do you want that, too?”, said Bickslow. “You're the one who requested us, for all I care.”

“Do I...?”, said Trent, obviously flustered. “I... well. I do want someone to put an end to this. But I am bound to my word to the mayor. I have already gone behind his back once, and I won't test my luck a second time. I have to trust him.”

“You can't make us leave just like that”; said Evergreen, crossing her arms on her chest and planting herself even more firmly into the ground. “I can stay wherever I want.”

“And it will be dark before we even reach Onibus”, said Freed. “I would hate to travel in the dark.”

“Don't know what kind of creatures are roaming around, buddy”, Bickslow added sagely. “Maybe those glowing thingies have friends with big fangs.”

“And you two don't know how to keep a lady safe, obviously”, Evergreen said. “And then I'd need to rescue you, and that would be a pain.”

Nivalius Trent sighed very deeply, but as he pushed his glasses onto his nose, Freed could have sworn he smirked a little. “Very well. You can stay in the 'Golden Clover' on the town square and I will tell the mayor that we deemed it best you stay until the morning. There is one thing you should know, however.” He looked around himself, but nobody was watching them. Still he lowered his voice to another whisper. “Take rooms in the ground floor, and look out to the town square at midnight. Do not – under no circumstances – leave the building. Do not get close to the Obelisk. I will sent Addy to you in the morning, she will accompany you to the gate. She works in the mines, by the way.”


	16. Fairies & Earthquakes

Trent accompanied them back to the town square, but did not answer any more questions on the way there. The 'Golden Clover' was a rather elegant-looking building, made out of white marble like so many of the other houses around. Its tall door and windows had wooden shutters coated with green paint, and the flower boxes on every window contained the eponymous plants. Trent said goodbye to them at the door.

When they entered the 'Golden Clover', they did not find themselves in a tavern, but rather in a spacious hall flooded with light from outside, a green carpet leading up to a wooden desk. To the right, the hall was open and lead to a beverage room. 

If Freed had been under the impression that their joint effort to get information from Nivalius Trent had changed something between him, Bickslow and Evergreen, he had been sorely mistaken. As soon as she had set a foot into the entrance hall of the hotel, Evergreen stormed past them and had booked a room before Freed and Bickslow had even reached the desk. Not sparing them even another look, she went into a corridor to the left, a golden key already in hand as the lady behind the desk had just asked Freed what kind of room he wanted.

“I'd like a room on the ground-level, please”, said Freed.

“That'd be 4000 jewels then, including breakfast”, the lady gave back and took a key from a golden rack on the wall behind her.

While Freed was taking his wallet out, Bickslow looked around rather sceptical. “Suppose I'll better stay outside”, he muttered. “That's a bit too fancy for me.”

“You can't stay outside”, Freed replied. Then, realising that it wouldn't be wise to say out loud that Nivalius Trent had wanted them to stay inside, he added: “The people here surely wouldn't appreciate you camping in the town square.”

“The town square will be blocked after sundown”, the lady added, rather displeased. “If our establishment does not suit your taste, I'll have to ask you to kindly leave and _camp_ out in the forest.”

“Hey, no need to get so touchy”, drawled Bickslow, had a look into his pouch and frowned. “4000 for a room you say?”

“Isn't there a double room my friend and I could share?”, Freed asked quickly.

The lady slowly turned her eyes over to Freed. “That would be 5000 jewels then, young man”, she said. The prospect of earning 3000 jewels less didn't seem to please her at all.

“Would that be alright with you?”

As an answer, Bickslow grinned, threw 1000 jewels onto the counter and said: “That's the remaining sum, then.”

A frown on her face, the lady handed Freed a different key and took away the one she had given him before. Bickslow, meanwhile, took out a few more banknotes and handed them to Freed. “So that we're even.”

From the corridor, it was impossible to tell which of the rooms belonged to Evergreen, as she had long since closed the door behind herself. Freed and Bickslow shared a room on the end of the corridor. Two beds with green covers stood in close distance to each other on one wall, a desk and a wardrobe stood at the other. A tall window looked out onto the town square, and, much to Freed's elation, the room even had its own bathroom with a tub.

They spent the evening waiting for midnight; Freed took a bath, Bickslow tested his bed by jumping onto the mattress and gave the impression as if he wanted to perform aerial stunts. They ate from their rations instead of going into the beverage room, even though Freed wondered if Evergreen would be there. They hadn't talked to her at all since Nivalius Trent had allowed them to stay in town.

On the town square, the procession of people bringing valuables to the Obelisk cleared after sundown, and slowly but steadily, the plaza became deserted. A few street lamps still illuminated it, and the bright Obelisk shone like a beacon against the dark sky. The only thing shining even brighter was the town hall, ethereal white even next to all the other marble buildings. 

When midnight came nearer, not even the wind seemed to move outside any more. Freed had put a chair next to a window, and Bickslow sat on the rim of the desk top, both staring out onto the plaza.

Ten minutes to midnight, and most of the lights in the houses around the plaza went out, only a few on the ground-level remained. Five minutes to midnight, and the street lamps were put out. Two minutes to midnight, and Bickslow started to impatiently tap his fingers onto the desk. One minute to midnight, and he stopped without Freed having to even ask him to.

Everything was covered in an almost reverent silence as Freed and Bickslow stared onto the town square, both not daring to speak. And then, just as the clock in the topmost storey of the town hall stroke midnight, all the lights that had went out on the plaza suddenly seemed to reappear, concentrated on the Obelisk. First, it seemed to glow on its own, cold and white like fresh snow on a mountain top. Then, a glowing ring appeared around it and bit by bit, the light took shape; dozens and dozens of shapes. Little glowing creatures appeared, it was almost impossible to tell what they looked like exactly, or if they had any wings, because they shone so brightly that it almost hurt to look at them. They danced and flew around the Obelisk first, then around the pile of valuables in front of it, forming another burning ring around it. 

Still transfixed by what was happening, Bickslow jumped down from the desk and with one big stride, he was at the window. When he had one hand on the handle, Freed realised what he wanted to do. “Stop!”, he said. “Nivalius Trent said we must not leave our rooms!”

“But they're right there”, said Bickslow, eyes still on the Obelisk and a hand on the window. “These things are right there – we just need to---”

But in that moment, someone came running over the plaza, from the hotel to the Obelisk and only stopped when she stood right next to it, the light of the creatures around her illuminating her. Evergreen seemed to glow, and she looked around so quickly, turned her head back and forth so fast as if she didn't know where to look first. She tried to grasp the creatures, tried to catch them, turning around herself and her skirt flowing after her. She almost seemed like a little girl chasing butterflies. 

“What's she doing there?”, hissed Bickslow, and now, he opened the window.

Freed didn't know whether he should hold him back another time, but just as Bickslow had one leg on the window sill, something outside happened and Freed knew this wasn't what was supposed to happen. After Evergreen had jumped up to reach one of the creatures, suddenly, they all seemed to disperse; if they had had a sort of formation before, now they were dashing away like the stars in a firework, their light darkening until all that was left of them were little sparks dying down, and the plaza was left in darkness once more. Evergreen was left standing at the Obelisk, alone and frozen up. 

Bickslow jumped out of the window just as voices were growing louder outside. Lights went on in the houses, doors flew open and people appeared from everywhere.

“What happened?”

“Who is that?”

“Where's the mayor?”

“What about the offering!”

Bickslow ran over the plaza to Evergreen. People gathered around her in a circle, Bickslow pushed them away. Deciding it was best to join them, Freed jumped out of the window, as well. Something was not right about all of this. 

“It was you!”, cried someone. Hands were raised, fingers pointed at the centre of the circle that had formed. “You chased them away!”

“They will punish us!”

“Those are the Fairy Tail mages!”, shouted someone else, a woman that Freed identified as the guard from the town hall, but without her robes.

Freed moved through the people until he could see Evergreen. Bickslow was in front of her, just a few steps away. Next to him on the ground were all the valuables of the people of Trifoil, still gathered there for the creatures to take them away, but entirely untouched. 

“Strangers shouldn't meddle with our affairs”, said someone else. “You just saw where that leads.”

Murmuring and voices were all around, angry and frightened. Evergreen just stood there as if she had been petrified, her hand still outstretched, looking at it as if she couldn't believe it was empty. It was hard to tell what she was feeling, but not because she was hiding it. Instead, so much disappointment and horror was in her face and her eyes seemed suspiciously wet that it was hard to understand what had just happened with her.

“What's up with you”, Bickslow said a little dispassionately, but he didn't approach her any further. “You okay?”

But Evergreen didn't answer.

“Evergreen...”, started Freed. “Is something---”

He was interrupted by a cry from someone, someone who pushed through the people and came to a halt just centimetres away from Evergreen. It was the woman Freed had seen praying in the afternoon, pure horror etched into her face. She was crying, and now she grabbed Evergreen's shoulders and shook her. “What did you do you stupid little girl! You angered them! Their wrath...”, she choked on the words, shook Evergreen even harder. Evergreen didn't react, and Freed found himself hoping she would. “Their wrath will be terrible! Do you want to destroy us? Do you want the Fairy Gods to take away everything we have?”

For some reason, that shook Evergreen out of her trance. Her face twisting into anger, she harshly removed the woman's hand from her and stared her right into the face, eyes burning. The woman made a step back, obviously afraid of the green light coming from behind Evergreen's glasses. “Don't call these... these things! Don't you _dare_ to call them fairies”, Evergreen growled. 

Ignoring the voices from everyone around, she pushed people away left and right and hurried back to the hotel. Bickslow turned to Freed, who thought it was best to leave as well and gestured towards the hotel, too.

But the woman who had just accused Evergreen now turned to Bickslow. “Who are you, who sent you!”, she screeched. “You belong to the girl, do you not?”

She grabbed Bickslow's shoulder, but he wasn't as easily moved as Evergreen and only glanced at the woman sideways, still half turned to Freed. “Leave me alone”, he said, but he wouldn't have had to.

The woman had already taken her hand away as if Bickslow was burning hotter than a stove, breathing too fast and staring at his eyes. The green light that spread from them was nothing new to Freed, but for her, his eyes must have looked just as threatening as Evergreen's. In the utter darkness on the plaza, they seemed especially bright.

“What... what are...”, she stammered. 

“Just a wizard”, muttered Bickslow, and just like Evergreen, he turned around and left, pushing people away who murmured something about 'eyes'. 

Freed followed him back. The people weren't paying him much attention, their eyes were all collectively set on Bickslow. 

They hadn't even made it halfway down the plaza towards the hotel, as the earth suddenly started shaking.

“An earthquake!”, cried someone.

“Our punishment! The Gods are punishing us!”, screeched the woman. 

What started out as a mild tremor became stronger and stronger, but never as strong that Freed found it difficult to stay on his feet. The street lamps shook as well, but none was damaged. Just as Freed thought that it wasn't as strong an earthquake as he would have expected, though; a terrible crash roared in the distance, and after one last tremor, everything was silent.

Not even the people's murmurs and whispers could be heard for a moment, it felt as if everyone was holding their breaths.

And then, chirping noises like thousands of birds erupted from somewhere, grew louder and turned into whispers first, and eerie bodiless voices next. Some people like the woman who still stood at the Obelisk threw themselves onto the ground, knelt and prayed, some others pointed fingers at Bickslow.

“You have disappointed us”, said someone. But it wasn't a single speaker, all those bodiless whispers had said these words, in high, uncannily childlike voices coming from almost everywhere.

Bickslow turned his head left and right trying to find the source, Freed knew it would be in vain. 

“Forgive us!”, cried the woman at the Obelisk. “Forgive us! Don't punish us!”

“You have not met the terms of our agreement”, said the voices. “An intruder has disturbed our sacred ceremony and desecrated our gifts!”

“We will punish them!”, cried the woman. Bickslow clenched his fists.

“But we will be merciful”, the voices continued. People left and right let out relieved breaths. “We have not taken your mine. We will return tomorrow for our gifts. Do not disappoint us another time!”

Under cries of thankfulness from the people on their knees, the voices turned back into whispers, and the whispers back into the chirping of birds before everything was silent again.

“What the fuck was that”, said Bickslow a few steps ahead of Freed. “You don't think that those were actually...?”

Freed knew what he meant, and he wished he could just say no. “At the very least, someone is keeping this place tightly monitored”, he said. “And something happened during the earthquake.”

Now that the voices had grown silent, however, the people were starting to murmur again. “It was you!”, shouted a man in a blue overall like the one Addy had worn. He pointed at Bickslow, and several others now came closer. “You and that little girl!”

“I didn't do anything, dammit!”, Bickslow shouted back.

“I can assure you that we have nothing to do with this”, said Freed loudly. Since no light emanated from his eyes, some of the people only now seemed to take note of him.

“It's the first time someone interrupted the procession! You angered the Fairy Gods!”

A group of people to the far left of the plaza quickly moved away now, Freed couldn't hear them talking. He saw them vanishing into a street that lead into the forest.

“You think those things were Gods?”, said Bickslow loudly. “Pretty tiny for Gods, if you ask me.”

Freed immediately wished Bickslow wouldn't have said that, he knew it was wrong even before a few of the people now came at them shaking their fists. The man in a blue overall took a big swing at Bickslow, whose quick reflexes probably saved him from a broken nose. 

“Oi!”, shouted Bickslow. “What's that for?”

Freed had no choice but to put a barrier around himself and Bickslow quickly, as the man lunged forward another time and Bickslow pointed his hand at something only he could see. And just as the man crashed into the barrier, a stone began flying circles around Bickslow's head. 

“Don't”, said Freed. He looked over the crowd to find the guard, but she only stood to the side, her face set in stone. They couldn't count on her. “Don't make it even worse. Let's go back to the hotel.”

“You won't go anywhere!”, said someone else. 

Alarmed by the violet barrier around the two boys, and the flying stone, a portion of the people moved slowly backwards, and another portion drew nearer, forming a sort of circle on their own. They were almost trapped. With a few modifications, Freed could create a barrier that would allow them to pass the people by pushing them out of the way, but he doubted that that would do anything to calm the situation. The circles the stone flew grew larger as well, almost as if Bickslow wanted to shoo the people away by threatening to hit their heads with it.

And as if that wouldn't have been enough, even before Freed could decide what to do, new screams erupted to their left, where the group of people had just vanished a few minutes earlier.

“The mining office!”, shouted someone. “The mining office collapsed! It was the earthquake!”

Freed put two and two together and deduced that the crash he had heard during the earthquake must have been the collapsing building then. 

The people crowding him and Bickslow only took that as even more of a reason to enact their vengeance on the two of them. Two others threw themselves at them, both were repelled by the barrier and landed unceremoniously on the ground. Bickslow increased the round of his stone even further, and as it missed the forehead of a man to their right by only a few millimetres, a few of the people made a half-step back.

“You can't do that”, said Freed to him.

“Why not”, Bickslow gave back in a waspish voice. “I didn't start this, they did. And I don't wanna hang around in this deadlock forever.” As if to underline his words, the stone soared around the head of another man. “I could also... you know.”

As Freed turned half over his shoulder to look at Bickslow, he saw that Bickslow nestled with his glasses, eyes closed.

“No!”, Freed said forcefully, but the simple act of playing with his glasses had already instilled fear in a few of their besiegers.

Murmurs about his eyes could be heard again, containing, amongst others, the words 'evil' and 'scary'. Bickslow heard them too, apparently, as he started laughing a rather bone-chilling laugh. “A little light that you can't explain and you're all getting scared!”, he cried. “Wimps, all of you!”

“Don't anger them further”, Freed said sharply, but indeed, even more people were getting away from them now.

“What is this nonsense all about?” 

A loud voice suddenly echoed over all of the plaza, louder than the murmurs and whispers that immediately went silent. The people moved and a narrow passage formed between them, through which a tall young man with bright red hair and thick glasses came hurrying towards where Bickslow and Freed stood.

As Nivalius Trent came to a halt in front of them, all eyes were suddenly on him. He sternly looked at all of them, on the goods that were still gathered at the Obelisk, on Freed and Bickslow in the barrier, on the stone circling them. 

“Who of you interrupted the ceremony?”, he said. His voice carried an authority Freed would have deemed unlikely in the afternoon.

All fingers pointed at Freed and Bickslow, the praying woman shouted: “The girl was it! The girl that was with them, the girl with the glowing eyes!”

Trent sighed discreetly, but silenced the renewed whispers by raising his hands. “And these two?”

“They belong together!”, cried someone.

“Look at his eyes!”, exclaimed the woman and pointed at Bickslow. “He's the same!”

“We only came here to stop Evergreen”, Freed said. He didn't like that he had to blame this all on Evergreen, but if it helped to get him and Bickslow out of this peacefully, he had to do it.

“Where is she?”, said Trent.

“In the hotel, I assume”, answered Freed.

Trent had to stop a handful of people who wanted to rush towards the hotel before he could continue. “I come from the mines”, he said loudly. “It's true, the office building collapsed, but none of the tunnels are affected. We can rebuild this and pay our tribute tomorrow! No lasting harm was done.”

Freed saw a few people exchanging heated words and hushed looks, but nobody objected.

“We cannot do anything tonight. I ask you to go back home for now, people of Trifoil.”

“But what about them!”, cried someone and pointed at Freed and Bickslow. “Aren't you going to punish them?”

“These two gentleman will leave the town tomorrow”, Nivalius Trent said firmly. “Together with the young lady responsible for this faux pas. That should be sufficient.”

Not only a few people complained, but Trent apparently held a position amongst them. Slowly but steadily, the people dispersed, even those who still looked as if Freed and especially Bickslow deserved a good beating. 

After a few minutes, only Freed, Bickslow and Trent were left and Freed felt safe enough to let down the barrier. The stone, however, continued flying circles around them.

“Go back to the hotel”, Trent said tersely. “Lock yourself up and close the curtains, keep an eye out for your friend. In the early morning, you leave the town.”

“But...”, started Bickslow, but Trent wouldn't have it.

“No 'but'. I let you and your friend already talk me into this once, even against my better judgement. I don't blame you for what happened, but I cannot allow it to happen again. It is best you leave.”

And with that, he turned around towards the town hall and left.

Bickslow and Freed looked after him for a moment before they, too, returned to the hotel.

They climbed in through the window and Freed immediately closed it behind himself and pushed the curtains in front.

“Well that was a dead loss”, muttered Bickslow. “First real job, and we screwed it.”

Freed ignored him for the moment, went into the corridor and inscribed all of it with runes. As he returned into their room, Bickslow peeked through the curtains and out of the window.

“We should be safe for the moment”, Freed said. “Though perhaps it's better if I inscribe the windows, as well.”

“What do you think they'll do? Come back and fight us?”, Bickslow said a little aggressively. 

“They clearly blame us”, Freed replied. “And I can understand that. They just lost an important post for their mining trade.”

“It's just a house!”, Bickslow huffed. “And we didn't do anything. Evergreen went there. Don't know what came over her, but _she_ kinda ruined it.”

“There must be a reason for her behaviour”, Freed said. He would still have to think about all of this night very carefully before understanding what had just happened.

“She's insane!”, Bickslow cried, throwing his arms up.

“You wanted to run out there, too.” In lieu of something better to do, Freed sat down on his bed.

Bickslow grunted. “Yeah but...”

“And you went there first after... after what happened.”

After another displeased grunt, Bickslow let himself fall down onto his bed. Freed took it as a sign that he had hit a sore spot.

They said nothing for a while before Freed asked something that had been on his mind ever since their squabble with Evergreen in the town hall, and that might help with his understanding of the situation now. “What did Evergreen's soul look like, if I may ask?”

“Way too solid”, Bickslow gave back gruffly.

“Care to elaborate?”

With a dramatic sigh, Bickslow continued. “I don't know. Souls are.. they aren't static, usually. They're kinda moving, like different colours and shades blending into each other, never at the same place. Sure, one colour is usually more dominant – yours is white, Evergreen's is... well, green. But... I think I told you that your soul has a bit of blue and green in it? Those kinda move … move through the white, like clouds, but the other way around.”

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked over to Freed for confirmation. Freed, once again a little astounded how easy Bickslow made it to at least get an idea of what he saw, nodded. 

“Evergreen doesn't have that. Her soul is just one colour, completely solid. No clouds, no spots. Just green. I mean, I can be wrong, I didn't look for very long. But it's a bit odd.”

He mustered Freed for a while, who thought on what Bickslow had just revealed. Then, Bickslow raised his voice another time. “You wanna figure her out, right? That's why you're keeping her around.”

“There must be reason she wanted this job so badly. And a reason for her insistence on the job even without payment. And... I don't assume I know her well, but how she behaved when we saw the lights at the Obelisk was rather … out of character, as well”, Freed said. 

“She's crazy, that's all”, Bickslow drawled. 

Freed looked over to find his face twisted somewhere between anger and frustration, but with an expression in his eyes that reminded Freed of a faint horror he knew very well from his experiences with the unfortunate Lorentz Rauckal.

“You won't forgive her for what she said to you, will you?”, Freed asked.

“No”, Bickslow said, quick and final. 

“Forgive me”, Freed said quietly. “But Evergreen wasn't the first one to call your eyes evil, was she?”

Bickslow's eyes twitched over to Freed, unusually shocked, but then, he let out a long breath he had apparently been holding. “No. An old crone in the circus used to call me that twice a day”, he said in a defeated voice. “She was one of the last who remained before... well. Before last winter.”

For a moment, Freed wondered if Bickslow would ever tell him more about the last winter, about why he had landed on the streets of Crocus as a street rat and thief. But then, he realised that now definitely wasn't the time. 

Bickslow, on his bed, touched the figure on his forehead once more and looked as if he was fighting with himself. Then, very slowly, he said: “She gave me the banishment scroll that did this here shortly before she kicked the bucket.”

“But you said it didn't work?”

Bickslow broke in a very mirthless, shrill laughter. “I know, makes it all the more ironic, doesn't it?”, he bellowed. “She kicked the bucket and little Bicks's still around scaring people.”

It was one of these things that sometimes came out of Bickslow's mouth that Freed found always a little repulsive, but that he had gotten used to by now. In a way, it appeared to him like Bickslow did this as a kind of mechanism to cope with everything regarding his eyes that he was uncomfortable speaking about. “It must be hard to hear these things on a regular basis”, Freed said, trying to drag the conversation in a slightly different direction. “My father only called my eye 'a rare gift'.”

The shrill laughter on the bed erupted another time. “To be honest, buddy, I don't know if that's any better.”

“I know some of the guards in my father's castle were frightened”, Freed continued. “They weren't wizards, and the look of … the look of my eye scared them. But father ordered them to not talk about it to me, so I only heard them whisper. Well, I tried not to.”

And retrospectively, it didn't really hurt all that much either, but Freed mused that this was only the case because other things that were etched into his mind more strongly burned brighter in his memories. And because he didn't have his eye for most of his life.

“My uncle always told me not to listen to the old crone, too”, Bickslow said. “Or the others that repeated what she said.”

“I wonder if Evergreen ever heard the same things”, Freed said, peeking out of the window where the Obelisk was only illuminated by the street lights again. “That her eyes are evil, or a gift. Or something else.”

“Probably none of that”, Bickslow scoffed. “With that high and mighty attitude she probably grew up believing she's a princess. No offence.”

“I don't know”, Freed said thoughtfully. “I didn't correct you earlier, but do you remember what Gildarts Clive told us about her?”

“That she has eye magic”, Bickslow said. He didn't sound very interested.

“Yes, but he also said which eye magic. He said that she has Stone Eyes.”

From Bickslow's bed, an indignant huff could be heard. “And? I take it you know what that means?”

“I found it in a book in the library of Fairy Tail. These eyes are sometimes called Medusa Eyes, as well”, Freed confirmed. “They can petrify people with one look, completely turn them into stone.”

“And?”, Bickslow repeated, obviously not thinking – or not willing to think – what that could mean.

“I was just thinking that maybe, there is a reason for her calling your eyes evil”, Freed said. He knew Bickslow wouldn't like to hear it, but it had to be said. “And that is that they are very similar, yours and hers. Very different as well, but also similar. Maybe the reason she called your eyes evil is that she, like you, heard more than once that her eyes are evil.”

The low grunt coming from the bed on which Bickslow as lying was all the answer Freed received, but he knew that Bickslow understood this more than he wanted to admit.

  



	17. Private Investigations

Even though it was way past midnight when Freed and Bickslow turned out the lights in their room, Freed couldn't find sleep. He pondered on the glowing creatures, on the eerie voices and the reactions of the townspeople; on Evergreen and what Bickslow had told him about her soul for a good while. He couldn't quite make sense of everything just yet, and when he finally decided to let it rest for the night and consider it after breakfast, the realisation hit him that Nivalius Trent had told them to leave, and thus, there would not be any investigation. This job appeared to be over before it had even started, and still, Freed found it rather hard to accept that, even though he couldn't pinpoint why.

Bickslow turned and shifted on his bed a lot, which wasn't very helpful for Freed's concentration, either. It had to be apparent for both of them that the other didn't sleep, but they didn't talk. 

When a few rays of light cautiously fell threw the curtains, Freed bolted up in his bed because of a sudden noise, and it took him several seconds to register it as someone positively hammering on their door. Freed got up with the odd sensation of knowing that he must have slept, but also unable to grasp when exactly it should have happened, since he seemed to be able to recall just about the whole night without any breaks. Feeling somewhat dizzy, he walked over to the door, carefully stepping over Bickslow who now slept like a stone, flat on his stomach on the floor next to his bed.

Since nobody without a right to be on this corridor should have made it to the door, Freed had a vague idea who their early visitor could be, but prepared himself mentally to write a barrier in case it was someone else.

It turned out he didn't have to. As soon as he had unlocked the door and opened it just a tiny little bit, Evergreen pushed it open fully and came marching into the room. 

“We need to talk”, she said curtly as he closed the door. She was already carrying her backpack. “There are people gathering in front of the hotel thanks to the fuss the two of you made last night and I need to be going quickly, so we do it now.”

“Good morning, Evergreen”, Freed said, though he had a feeling that basic politeness was about as lost on Evergreen as it was on Bickslow. “And let me add that you are not completely innocent when it comes to the events of the last night.”

“I've watched you from the hotel”, Evergreen replied scathingly, ignoring him. “That blue-haired buffoon almost started a fight.”

“They were at our throats first”, came a voice from the ground, and a second later, Bickslow's head emerged from below the edge of his bed. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, then grabbed his glasses from the night stand. “'Cause someone interrupted their precious ceremony.”

“Good morning”, said Freed.

“Hey. I thought I heard a lovely voice that wasn't supposed to be in this room”, Bickslow replied. 

“You sleep on the floor?”, Evergreen said, for a moment seeming a little distracted from her urgent wish to talk. “Barbaric!”

“Yeah”, Bickslow drawled, got up fully only to let himself fall down on his bed looking expectantly at Evergreen. “Barbaric, that's me. So what's up?”

Evergreen looked at them both, at Bickslow first, then at Freed, and walked through the room towards the chair that still stood at the window. Freed followed her, pulled the curtains away for just a centimetre and peeked through.

“Blimey”, he muttered. There really were lots and lots of people gathering at the Obelisk and in front of the hotel. He could make out a little group let by the woman who had been praying last afternoon, the same that had verbally attacked first Evergreen and then Bickslow. It seemed like a miracle that he hadn't taken note of them before, they seemed to be arguing rather loudly, and if he paid attention now, there seemed to be an undercurrent of downed voices from outside in the room.

“It's been like that since the sun went up”, Evergreen said. “From my room I saw how one of them got into the hotel, but as I went to peek through the door, he couldn't enter the corridor.”

“My Jutsu Shiki”, Freed replied calmly. “I put a barrier around the corridor and our window, so that nobody without a claim or invitation to one of the rooms could enter them.”

“You can do Jutsu Shiki?”, Evergreen asked, a brow arched. 

“Yes, next to my eye magic.”

A ghost of a very tight-lipped smirk moved over Evergreen's until now rather displeased features. “Useful”, she said. “I must know what exactly happened last night.”

“Before or after you crushed into that ceremony, screamed at that lunatic woman and then rushed off crying for some reason?”, Bickslow said, helpfully.

“I did NOT cry!”, Evergreen thundered, burying her fingernails into the armrests of the chair. 

“Sure thing”, Bickslow said dispassionately. “And Freed would've rather joined Quatro Cerberus than Fairy Tail.”

“Can we please stay on topic for a while?”, Freed intervened. He had just looked through the curtain another time, and the number of people on the plaza was increasing.

“It's not my fault we've been interrupted”, Evergreen hissed. 

As Bickslow almost raised his voice to object, Freed silenced him with a gesture.“You wanted to know what happened after you left?”, he said evenly. 

As Evergreen's grip on the armrests loosened, Freed started explaining the events of the last night.

“No!”, Evergreen cried and jumped up from her chair. Freed had just told her that Nivalius Trent had asked them to leave. “No, he can't!”

“He can, I guess. We screwed up”, Bickslow said, seemingly casual. But Freed meant to hear a little disapproval in his voice, too.

“No, _you_ screwed up”, Evergreen hissed. She was pacing through the room now. “I was back at the hotel when that happened.”

“I didn't just run into that ceremony!”, Bickslow grumbled.

“But you wanted to”, Freed said loudly, because Evergreen had already raised her voice another time. “And before you say anything, Evergreen, I don't think you're quite innocent with regards to the tumult last night. But it's too late for blaming anyone.”

Evergreen shot him a burning look, and Bickslow only snorted and readjusted his pillow.

“What has happened last night was unfortunate, but Nivalius Trent was rather clear that our... unofficial investigation was not going to happen”, Freed continued. “And seeing that the people outside will hinder every step we would take, I see no other option than to declare this job a failure.”

For a moment, he thought that saying it out loud would make it easier to grasp and put behind himself, but that wasn't the case. It still felt just as hard to accept than it had during the night.

“So we're leaving?”, said Bickslow. “Wait until the crowd found something more important to stare at and go back to Magnolia?”

“If that's what you two intent to do, go on”, Evergreen said, her voice stony. She stood up, straightened her skirt. “I won't leave. I won't let this stand.”

“Okay, have fun”, Bickslow drawled.

Freed paid him no mind, just looked sharply at Evergreen. “Why?”, he said plainly. Evergreen, who had been on her way to the door, stopped. “Why are you so insistent on this job?”

There was an indignant huffing, followed by a vague silence. “I don't fail”, Evergreen then said. “I will have a clean track record in my work for the guild. Simple as that.”

“I don't like failing, either”, said Freed. “But if you want to be technical, this isn't even an official job any more.”

Freed honestly didn't quite believe in this himself, and neither did Evergreen, if her little snorting was any indicator. But his words had had an effect in so far as that Evergreen didn't leave.

“I don't see why it should be of any interest to you”, she said. “If I stay or if I go.”

“We, in some form, agreed to work together yesterday.”

“Call it a temporary alliance”, Evergreen replied. Still rooted on the spot, she at least turned around to Freed again and crossed her arms on her chest. “Due to unfortunate circumstances.”

Bickslow laughed out, shrill as always. Evergreen almost flinched at the sound. “'Unfortunate circumstances'? It was our job, Freed's and mine, and you tried to steal it!”

“You stole it first!”, Evergreen cried, now glowering at Bickslow. 

It didn't have any effect, only that Bickslow grinned a toothy grin at her. “Look who's talking. Wasn't Freed or me who picked the wrong job that evening in Fairy Tail”, he said.

He had hit a nerve. For the first time Freed could remember, Evergreen went red. And even though it wasn't a very long time that he knew her, she didn't appear the type of person to blush easily. 

“That's it”, she said in a low, almost threatening voice; very obviously restraining anger. “I'm leaving you two idiots alone.”

As she turned to leave, Freed raised his voice. “Maybe you have the right to be angry at us, because we took the job you clearly wanted.” She stopped, but glared at Freed now, too. “But in any case, you were in Trifoil hours ahead of us, so you must have come here without trying to talk to us again. And then you lied to Nivalius Trent about being the one who had taken the job. What is it that makes you want to complete it so badly?”

Freed knew he had ventured far into dangerous territory, and Evergreen consequently looked rather trapped, her eyes staring blankly at Freed while her face was still reddened. But acting on the not unfounded feeling that she would brush it off again if he didn't make that last step, Freed added: “Has it anything to do with these alleged fairies?”

Evergreen's eyes widened in a moment of pure shock before she fought her face back into a neutral expression. “No”, she said coldly. “You're imagining things.”

She was just about to turn to the door again as Bickslow burst out laughing another time. “Really? That's it? You're here because you think these thingies are real fairies?”, he cried, slid down on his bed and pressed the pillow onto his face to drown the laughter. “That's priceless!”

Evergreen's face had turned from its slightly pinkish tint to a violent shade of purple. “Don't you dare make fun of that!”, she screeched, hands balled into fists and one step closer to the bed now. Bickslow just laughed into his pillow. “Don't you dare say another word about these things! And don't you _dare_ to claim they're fairies!”

Bickslow laughed a little more, and Evergreen looked as if she wanted to jump onto the bed and throttle him. But before she could, the pillow was taken away, and Bickslow, red in the face and still grinning wildly, propped himself up on his elbows and looked straight at Evergreen. “Wow... sorry”, he said nonchalantly. “Fairies, of all things.”

“What's so funny about that”, huffed Evergreen.

“Nothing”, said Bickslow earnestly. “Kinda sweet, really. I thought they were willow-the-wisps.”

For only a second, Evergreen was caught off guard, let her hands fall down to her sides and just stared at Bickslow. Then, she tucked a strand of hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear and said, rather quietly but still with clear disdain: “Willow-the-wisp, how silly. Everyone knows they only live in swamps.”

“Don't know, maybe one got lost”, Bickslow said with a shrug. 

“How very likely”, Evergreen said coldly. “And I don't know if you are able to count, but those things last night were a bit more than just one stray light.”

As Bickslow chuckled at this, Evergreen just stared at him in bewilderment. 

“I would think it's settled then”, said Freed. 

He looked over to Bickslow, who returned his glance with rolling eyes. It didn't look very impressive because he was still smiling a bit. “I guess. But that one's on you.”

The revelation about the fairies had put together a few things in Freed's mind; Evergreen's use of magic, her choice of Fairy Tail as a guild, and even the tears in her eyes as the creature, whatever it had been, had vanished into thin air during the last night. There was no need to lose words on it; Freed knew that it would be in vain just the same as it was in vain to ask Bickslow about the end of the circus, or himself about his feelings for his father. And neither of them had truly wanted to drop the matter of the mystery of Trifoil, so the spark of Evergreen's dedication to finding out what the creatures truly were was enough to convince Freed that the right thing, in this case, was something entirely more complicated than following the wishes of Nivalius Trent and mayor Ornua. 

“Excuse me?”, said Evergreen. “Did you two just decide something over my head?”

“Yeah, that we're gonna help you”, said Bickslow and jumped up from the bed. He ran a hand through his unruly hair and without further ado, started to change into his regular clothes.

“I don't need help!”, said Evergreen. “Least of all from you two!”

“We will need to see the side of the earthquake”, Freed said plainly. “And I would like a look at the area around the Obelisk. I think we can all agree that whatever happened, it was magic. Maybe I can detect some residual energy.”

Evergreen, the hands stemmed into her hips, looked back and forth between Freed going up and down in front of the door and Bickslow putting on his suspenders, then she huffed and rolled her eyes. “Fine”, she said plainly. “Just this once.”

“Sure”, said Bickslow with a little grin. “Don't wanna spend much time around you, anyway.”

“I want to have another look at the mayor”, Evergreen said, completely ignoring him. “He seemed rather strange yesterday.”

“I could do that”, Bickslow said. He looked over to Freed and grinned. “You know, Bickslow-style.”

“What?”, said Evergreen impatiently. Bickslow wordlessly pointed at his eyes. Still not quite convinced, Evergreen added: “Oh. So you meant what you said yesterday? About your eyes?”

A dark cloud moved over Bickslow's face and he turned his attention towards fixing the bandages around his wrists. “I did”, he said. “My evil, evil eyes can see souls.”

It seemed that putting a lot of sarcasm in his voice kept him from becoming bitter at this, but Evergreen didn't – or didn't want to – notice. She, on her side, took the news very matter-of-factly. “Is that useful for anything?”

“Gives you an idea about with what kinda person you're dealing with”, Bickslow said casually. “Bad people always have bad souls.”

“That does not sound reliable”, Evergreen stated.

Freed felt it was best to intervene before Bickslow could counter again. “This discussion is entirely academic in nature if we cannot figure out a way to accomplish any of the things we need to. I doubt the people of Trifoil will allow us to wander around town, and I doubt the mayor will grant us an audience.”

He went to the window and peeked through the curtains. There was still a crowd at the hotel entrance, and even people close to their window. It was a good thing Freed had inscribed it with a barrier as well after Bickslow had gone to bed the last night. They were untouchable for now, but this situation couldn't endure forever.

“We know they won't be around at midnight”, said Bickslow. “Last night, the streets were deserted.”

“It's still a full day until then, and I refuse to waste it”, said Evergreen. She came to stand next to Freed at the window, and peeked outside, as well. “Manageable”, she then said plainly.

Bickslow laughed out. “What's that supposed to mean?”

“They'll stop standing there gawking if they've got real problems.” 

A ghost of a smirk moved over Evergreen's face. Freed found it a little alarming. “Would you care to elaborate?”

“Do you trust me or not?”, Evergreen said indignantly. 

“Yes”, said Freed, more because he felt he had to.

Bickslow wasn't as polite. “No”, he said. “You're being rather nebulous, you know?”

Evergreen threw Bickslow a fierce look and huffed. “I'm a mage, and they're not. Precise enough for you, moron?”

“You aren't going to use your Fairy Magic on them”, Freed said quickly. 

The determination in his voice held the others both back from glaring at each other. 

“Her what?”, said Bickslow.

“Why not?”, said Evergreen, a challenge lying in her voice. “They're rather obnoxious like that and I want to be a good girl and solve their little problem. They should thank me.”

“This isn't going to solve anything”, said Freed. He knew enough about Fairy Magic from his lessons to know that it would cause a disaster if Evergreen would use it against the people. 

“Read about Fairy Magic in one of your books, didn't you?”, Evergreen said. “But I bet you haven't seen it up close, yet.”

“There will be a time and place for that”, Freed returned adamantly. 

“I don't know who you think you are, but I don't take orders from you”, hissed Evergreen. 

“Why don't you just let her create a few fairies as distraction”, Bickslow barged in. “Or whatever else that magic does.”

“Basically, it causes explosion”, said Freed, still looking at Evergreen, who smirked now visibly. “By creating a fine powder, I recall; something that the people in earlier times labelled Fairy Dust, hence the name.”

“Cool”, said Bickslow. 

The grin on Evergreen's face grew a little more smug at the awe in his tone. “See, the moron and I agree”, she said. “For once.”

“About blasting off the people?”, said Bickslow. “Nope, too messy. Believe me, I've been there. But I guess a little explosion could do the trick.”

With expectant faces, both Evergreen and Freed turned to Bickslow now, who grinned.

“Come on, I can't be the only one who noticed that the rooms on the third level have balconies? And that there's a staircase next to our room that leads up?”, he said with a grin.

“You mean...”, said Freed.

But Bickslow intervened quickly, he was apparently enjoying himself. “I can get from one of the balconies onto the roof, and I can get Ever up there, too. She does a little magic and an explosion sets off in a back alley. The people panic, 'cause it could be an earthquake, and violá! Mayhem. Which is perfect for getting out. There's enough forest around to lay low for a bit.”

“And we could find the mines from there, I assume”, said Freed and nodded. It wasn't how he would have approached the situation, but distractions had served them well in the past and he trusted Bickslow in that regard. At least partly. “I would suggest a few modifications to the plan, though, but all in all, it could work.”

Evergreen, however, looked sharply at Bickslow, as if trying to find a flaw in his plan. “Two things”, she then said briskly. “First: You don't need to get me up anything, I can do that myself. And second: Do not call me 'Ever' ever again.”

Bickslow only burst out laughing.

  


\---

  


Breaking into a hotel room in search for an escape route had not been on the list of things Freed had thought he would have to do in his life.

But here he was, on the third floor of the hotel, guarding a door. He had checked with his runes if it was empty, then Evergreen had taken a pin out of her hair and unlocked the door with it. She and Bickslow had then entered the room – despite Freed's protests that Evergreen didn't need to be there and only Bickslow would scout the situation from the roof. 

The door stood a bit ajar, so Freed could hear what happened inside. It appeared that Evergreen was standing on the balcony observing the situation herself, hissing orders up to the roof.

“Make sure you check the main road!”, she half-whispered. And just like the last ten times she did that in the last five minutes, Freed at the door cringed a little.

He had not checked the other rooms, and if some other guests were noticing that they had no right to be here...

Thankfully, Bickslow didn't answer Evergreen this time, or maybe, Freed could simply not hear him from inside. 

It took another few minutes in which every noise seemed like the sound of an opening door somewhere on the corridor to Freed before Evergreen's voice grew a little louder. 

“What took you so long!”, she said.

“Your stupid ideas”, muttered someone else. Freed had to suppress a sigh, he had far less experience in hiding than Bickslow and still he probably did a better job of being inconspicuous. “I've checked the alley at the town square about ten times.”

“If you want a distraction, that'd be the perfect place!”

“Hey, Freed”, said Bickslow, now directly behind the door. “Get in!”

Throwing a last look at all the other doors, Freed quietly slipped into the room, as well, closed the door behind himself.

“Okay, here we go”, started Bickslow. “There's a backyard directly behind this room, it's got a pool and all. Couple of people are outside, probably tourists, 'cause they seem like the noise from the town square doesn't bother them. Thing is, we can't get to the forest in a direct line, it's too far and there's a giant golden fence in the way.”

“This means we do need the distraction”, Freed said, now matter-of-factly. He had hoped they would not need to cause any ruckus, disappearing silently seemed like a much better option.

“Not quite”, said Bickslow. “You see, the breakfast room has a sort of extension, with a glass ceiling and stuff and...”

“It's a conservatory”, added Evergreen. 

“Whatever. It's about as high as the second level, and closer to the forest. At least I can jump from there to a tree and disappear.”

“Will I be able to get into the forest from the roof?”, said Freed.

Evergreen frowned, but Bickslow nodded. “From what I saw when you soared through the forest in Aconite, sure. Provided you're not afraid of heights. I can't help Ever, though”, he said. Evergreen huffed. “The jump's too far.”

“I won't need any help, I think I already made that clear”, Evergreen said. “And if you call me that name again, I'm going to...”

“Hate me for it? Thought you already do that.”

“Can I trust you will get into the forest somehow, Evergreen?”, Freed said determinedly. 

Evergreen rolled her eyes. “I won't say it a third time.”

“Well, then let's do it. I'd rather not waste any more time, get caught or anything else. Follow me.”

Freed was the first one to move through the room towards the balcony, half-unsure of what he was doing and half-determined to get out of this hotel as soon as possible. He had a vague idea about what Evergreen was planning, he knew a few things about Fairy Magic from his studies.

He wasn't surprised that he was right, and that she, just a step behind him, conjured up fairy-like wings as soon as she stepped onto the balcony, and soared through the air towards the forest even before he had created his own wings.

Bickslow was the last one to leave the room, Freed turned around in the air a couple of times to see him jump from the roof onto the conservatory, then take a run and jump a couple of metres onto the low-hanging branches of a tree. He did not have much time, though, getting back down into the forest was imperative and Evergreen did not waste any time in turning and looking for either of them.

She went down maybe three hundred meters into the forest, on a spot where the trees stood a little less close. Freed followed her, and found himself on a small clearing.

“Told you I can take care of myself”, Evergreen said smugly as he landed next to her.

“I never doubted that”, Freed replied.

“Those wings weren't Jutsu Shiki”, Evergreen continued. She took off her backpack and straightened her skirt, sat down onto the ground carefully. Her eyes never left Freed, though, who just covered his pulsing right eye with his hair once more.

“No, that was my eye magic.”

Silence emerged, Freed sat down next to her and hoped Bickslow would find them somehow. 

It took a couple of minutes before Evergreen said something again. “How's it called?”, she said plainly, but her head was now turned away from him.

“I don't know”, Freed replied earnestly, surprised that it wasn't so hard to fight back his own disappointment. “I couldn't find an answer in any of the books I've studied, and Master Makarov doesn't know, either.”

“To be honest, I never thought that there were---”, Evergreen started, but a rustling in the trees around them made her stop. 

Both she and Freed were almost up on their feet as Bickslow jumped down from one of the close trees.

“Seriously, she's got wings, too? How come I'm the only one here who can't fly?”

“Because you're a loser”, Evergreen said, but her voice somehow lacked a little of her usual bite. 

“Did anyone follow you?”, said Freed, more interested in their situation than in his companions' little squabbles.

“Nope. I guess an old lady in the breakfast room saw me on that glass ceiling, but I doubt she'll run and tell anyone about it.”

“Maybe we shouldn't stay that close to the hotel, anyway”, said Evergreen.

“The mines are in that direction, I think”, said Freed, and pointed along the edge of where the town square lay. “Let's hope most people are still busy storming the hotel and go there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Out of all the chapters in this story so far, this and the last chapter are probably my favourites. Maybe because they were relatively easy to write - or maybe because they contain excessive amounts of snark and bickering :D


	18. The Mines

With the help of Freed's compass runes and general sense of direction, the mines weren't difficult to find. They made their way through the forest, always staying a good hundred meters away from its edge to remain hidden.

For one reason or another, the twisting in Freed's stomach that he felt when thinking that all they did now was unauthorised wasn't entirely unpleasant, almost like a toned down version of the thrill that he felt when fighting with his rapier. A little voice in his head sometimes wondered whether or not they were allowed to do what they did now without a job request. But on the other hand, as long as nobody was harmed, nobody could forbid a group of people to look at a few interesting things, or could they? Additionally, they owed something to the people of Trifoil for last night.

Bickslow kept himself in a somewhat deliberately casual posture, strolling behind Freed and Evergreen with his arms locked behind his head. It was hard to say how Evergreen felt about all of this, ever since they had left the clearing, she had remained silent and stoically focussed on the path ahead, though she did seem displeased every time Freed stopped to renew his runes.

“We're almost there, it seems”, Freed announced after he had checked his compass another time. “The collapsed office building should be right next to us now.”

“What do you think you'll find there?”, asked Bickslow. He craned his neck into the direction Freed had gestured, took off his glasses. “Lots of people there, anyhow.”

“Maybe the side of the earthquake can tell us a something about its origin”, Freed replied.

“Magic, I thought we'd established that”, Evergreen said. She looked surreptitiously over to Bickslow, almost as if she didn't want to but curiosity had won her over. “Do you need to know more?”

“It can't hurt, and we can't go to the Obelisk just now”, Freed said. 

“Fine”, said Evergreen. “But I will see the mayor another time before sundown, as well.”

“How long can it take to look at a collapsed building, anyway?”, Bickslow said. “There's gonna be plenty of time for other stuff.”

They got closer to the mines more slowly now, Freed and Evergreen hiding behind trees and bushes, while Bickslow had climbed high into the trees and kept a little ahead of them. They could make out voices in the distance quickly, and soon, the schemes of people and something like a building became visible. When the forest almost became too thin to hide behind anything, Bickslow went ahead a little further and came back after scouting the area once more.

“It's our lucky day”, he said quietly. “There's a big old oak pretty close to the office building, it's good to climb on even from low down. A couple of the branches are growing over to the building, so I guess we can start from there.”

“Good”, replied Freed. “How many people are there?”

“Lots, and that's the bad news”, said Bickslow. “Coming and going. I could see the mine entrance, and there's a crowd staring at the building and discussing.”

“Is there even anything worth looking at left from the building?”, said Evergreen.

“Sort of”, said Bickslow and shrugged. “It's more than a pile of rocks, anyway. Didn't stay for long enough to inspect it.”

“Then let's get to that oak tree first”, said Freed. “I will use a few runes around it that will suppress the noise we're making, but we still need to stay hidden.”

When Freed joined Evergreen on a branch of the oak tree after he had secured it, he was met with the sight of a large space of cleared woodland around a small hill that must have been the entrance to Trifoil's mine. The office building, or better, the remains of it, was the only house around, they seemed to have left the village behind by a few hundred metres. People stood around the office building and argued, just like Bickslow had said, all wearing blue overalls. Freed could make out the face of the man who had nearly attacked him and Bickslow yesterday in the arguing crowds, as well as Addy. A couple of other workers apparently preferred to go by their daily work, entered and left the mine, emptied carts with raw, whitish rocks; some of them gleaming as if they contained gemstones. Just the contrast between the arguing crowd and the workers who stoically followed their daily routine was a little curious, but what made the whole scenery almost bizarre was the good ten metres long chasm that went in a nearly perfectly straight line through the office building. It looked as if the building had been cut in half by an oversized knife more than what Freed would have expected the effects of an earthquake to look like – none of the trees around were affected, and even the two halves of the office building seemed more or less stable and not likely to collapse soon as far as Freed could tell. 

Evergreen next to him seemed to think the same and leant forward on the branch to get a marginally closer look. “This is not what it's supposed to look like”, she said quietly. It seemed that the situation had finally caught her interest.

“The tremors weren't terribly strong”, replied Freed. “Maybe that's why it looks like this. But that... I'd always imagined that the effects of an earthquake would lead to more area defects.”

“That's what the guys down there talk about, too”, said Bickslow. He was a couple of branches above them, and a little further away from the trunk. “Listen.”

Freed followed the conversation for a while. A few of the rooms in the office building appeared to be undamaged according to the workers, including the main office of the mine's foreman. 

“I just don't see why those creatures would do something like this”, he could hear Addy say. “The last times, what they did collapsed entire areas and entrances. And this time, it's literally just a couple of steps away from the main entrance, and all that happens is that we can't use the loo until we stabilised that chasm.”

“The Fairy Gods have been merciful”, said someone else, one of the older workers. “We should not try to comprehend their reasoning, and be thankful that these foolish children didn't cost us our mine.”

Another of the workers grumbled lowly. “They've vanished, those little bastards. Been at the hotel all morning, nobody could get into it for some reason, and when we finally could, their rooms were empty.” Evergreen and Bickslow both snickered at this. “If I can get my hands on them...”

“Then what?”, said Addy brashly. “You still think they did that on purpose? Ran out there just to get us into trouble?”

“They're wizards, Addy”, said the other man. “I don't know what they're usually up to. And the mayor didn't want them in town my cousin said, he works in the bakery near the town hall. You heard that, too, right? If he doesn't want them in town, I bet my house he's got a good reason for that and that is because we're not meant to involve foreigners.”

“We can hardly keep that shtick up forever”, said Addy. “Put our incomes next to the Obelisk once a week and hope they'll be _merciful_.”

Next to him, Evergreen readjusted her position. “Be careful...”, whispered Freed, but a twig broke off from where she was keeping herself up with her hand, and before she could catch it, it sailed down towards the ground.

For a second, he and Evergreen both held their breath even though it wasn't necessary because of his barrier. Bickslow crawled back from his position, as well. 

But none of the people on the ground seemed to take note of them.

“At least, the kids are gone now”, said Addy. “And we're lucky that it all turned out like this, with no major cave-ins or anything. We've only got the main entrance left, so if that one would've collapsed, the mine's would have to shut down and Trifoil'd be in a rough spot, financially.”

“You've been spending too much time with the mayor's assistant”, said another worker, but he clapped Addy on the back with a grin. “If you're thinking of the village's finances already.”

“She's right, though”, said yet another worker. “We're lucky it just hit the building in the way it did. We're still mostly running business as usual which means there's no trouble for the big shipment that'll go to Bosco next week.”

Now Addy laughed a little. “Oh there'll be trouble if we keep on staring at those ruins for the rest of the day and don't go to work.”

“There's a big shipment going out next week, interesting”, whispered Freed. 

“I wonder if the _Fairy Gods_ know this”, said Evergreen in a dangerously sweet voice. 

“I bet they do”, muttered Bickslow.

A few of the workers down at the mine seemed to have taken Addy's comment to heart now and entered the mine to start working, while a few others, Addy herself amongst them, stayed at the building. From pieces of their conversation, Freed put together that they were waiting for a stone mason to arrive who was tasked with assessing the damage to the office building.

“Do you really want to know about _that_?”, Evergreen said challengingly as it became apparent that the arrival of the stone mason would be the most interesting thing to happen in the foreseeable future. 

On a personal level, Freed would have liked to answer that yes, he was interested in an assessment of the damages. On a professional level, though, he had to agree that other things were higher up on their priority list.

But before he could tell Evergreen and Bickslow that they should probably leave and plan their next moves, someone in the crowd at the office building said loudly: “Oh, the mayor's coming, too!”

Evergreen's attention was almost immediately back at the scenery, and a rustling on a branch above them told Freed that Bickslow readjusted his position as well. 

With long, carefully measured strides, the mayor arrived at the mine, his rather magnificent robe in stark contrast to the blue overalls of the mine workers. He was deep in conversation with a small man, who despite his advanced age was physically still quite imposing. Nivalius Trent, his nose deep in notes he carried around on a clipboard, followed a few steps behind.

“Mayor Ornua!”, said one of the mine workers and made a small bow. “What a surprise!”

Indeed, it was a rather fortunate turn of events that the mayor had come here, it spared Freed that he had to make up a plan to get a look at him like Evergreen had wanted.

“After last night's unfortunate turn of events, we had to see the situation for ourselves”, the mayor replied. 

He went on to shake the hands of a few workers, who all made the same short bow as the one who had spoken earlier.

“Trent informed me that nobody was hurt?”, said the mayor as he had shaken the last worker's hands.

“Yes, Sir”, returned Addy. “Thankfully. So late at night nobody's at the building, anyway.”

“Do not worry, good people”, the mayor continued, his voice turning louder so that everyone could hear him. “We will put all our efforts into rebuilding what was damaged last night.”

They went on to talk about the general damage while the stone mason was lead to the chasm by one of the workers.

Freed listened in closely, but what the mayor and the workers talked about appeared to be mostly insignificant. Nivalius Trent still wrote everything down, likely for a protocol of the visit. 

As a few minutes had passed, Freed looked up to Bickslow. The other boy had crawled dangerously far ahead on his branch and was staring at the situation down at the mines, his glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt.

“Man, that guy is weird”, Bickslow muttered a little later.

To Freed's surprise, Evergreen was quicker to react than he was. “He's strutting around like an oversized peacock”, she said pointedly. “I know his type. They talk like everyone else are children too little to understand anything.”

Freed had to admit that she wasn't wrong, and that the way the mayor moved and his voice sounded when he talked to the workers had something of the way some of his teachers had talked to him when he had been ten years old; reassuring in one way, but also patronising looking back at it now.

“His soul also kinda looks like a peacock”, Bickslow said. “Just shinier.”

“Shiny? Are you going to tell me that souls _shine_?”, Evergreen said. She did little to hide her scepticism. 

“Don't worry, yours doesn't”, Bickslow returned. Evergreen huffed. “But that guy's... his soul's got a kind of pattern that repeats itself. Like a kaleidoscope, or something like that. And part of that pattern glows a bit. Golden. How tacky.”

“Do you have an idea what that means?”, asked Freed.

“Hm...”, made Bickslow. “I've seen someone similar. She tried to hit on my uncle while we'd been staying in our winter quarters a couple of years ago. Owned a book shop, and all she could talk about was herself. Really boring, come to think of it.”

“You just have to take one look at his outfit to know that he's full of himself”, Evergreen said snidely. “I don't need your eyes for that.”

“Oh great”, said Bickslow roughly. “Then please, enlighten me. What other things did you gather about that guy from staring at him?”

He moved on his branch again, and maybe because he was sitting so far away from the trunk, the twigs and leaves rustled once more such that Bickslow had to make an effort to keep the branch from moving too much by readjusting his balance. However, in that moment, Freed noticed that the mayor, who stood thankfully with his back turned on them, rubbed his neck as if trying to drive away an insect. Nivalius Trent, who stood a step behind the mayor, did the same; only that he also had a brief look over his back, his eyes shooting up and down.

For a moment, Freed held his breath again thinking that Trent had noticed them, but then, the mayor's assistant returned his attention to the situation in front of him and Bickslow put his glasses back on and crawled back towards the trunk.

“Did he see you?”, Freed whispered.

“Don't know”, Bickslow grumbled. “But I guess if he had, he'd told someone.”

“Maybe we should keep it at that and return to the clearing”, Freed offered. “We've seen all we've come for.”

“I won't leave just yet”, Evergreen said, unimpressed. 

“What's it you're waiting for?”, hissed Bickslow. “That the fairy-thingies turn up out of nowhere and steal that guy's golden necklace?”

“Don't be stupid, that's not---”, started Evergreen.

But Freed interrupted her. “You're right, Bickslow”, he said. Both Evergreen and Bickslow looked over to him in an instant, but Freed didn't return their glances. He had just realised something, something that he probably should have noted sooner. “Why haven't these creatures stolen the mayor's golden necklace?”

It had seemed random at first, that the mayor would wear something like a golden necklace, and Freed had taken it as a mere sign of the mayor's position. But then again, nobody else was wearing jewellery from what he remembered, not even a golden watch, and not even the people of higher standing, like Nivalius Trent. 

“Remember what Mr. Trent told us. The creatures started with stealing personal items like jewellery and the money people had at home, but for some reason, the mayor's necklace has not been taken. Nor have the statues in the entrance of the town hall, or the golden frames of the paintings there.”

“I told you something's fishy about him”, said Evergreen coldly. “I bet there's a reason that he still has his valuables, and it's not that the creatures respect his position.”

“Maybe he's in league with whatever steals the people's money”, offered Bickslow. 

“Let's not jump to conclusions so fast”, said Freed. “He's the mayor. People have elected him, and trust him. He has been in office for so long, and it would be very unwise to be the only one still wearing jewellery if he wouldd know more than he let on. Maybe the creatures are simply not targeting him because of a different reason.”

“Or maybe”, Evergreen started. “Maybe he just likes parading that necklace because he's an oversized peacock and knows he doesn't have to fear losing it.”

In the following minutes, despite Evergreen's continuing arguments on the contrary, Freed wasn't certain if he wanted to believe so quickly that the mayor was involved in the phenomena happening in Trifoil. But all attempts at calming his own racing thoughts by telling himself that the mayor had been elected so many times by the people and would not, under no circumstances, abuse his position, let to a different side of him arguing that the mayor didn't even want someone with knowledge of magic investigate, which seemed narrow-minded considering the circumstances. Still, the existence of a golden necklace hardly counted as proof, and they still wanted to look at the Obelisk. Until then, he would not make a decision either way.

About an hour later, when Freed's feet had already started feeling numb from sitting in the oak tree, the mayor excused himself and left. The stone mason had not returned from his inspection, and so, the mayor left Nivalius Trent at the mines to note the report. Once the mayor was out of sight, Trent immediately went to speak to Addy.

“Let's leave now”, said Evergreen. 

As Freed had climbed the tree last, he was now the first one to descent, followed by Evergreen and at last, Bickslow. They went back into the forest towards the clearing to plan for what they would do in the night once the ceremony was over.

It took them only a few metres into the forest to realise it would, most likely, not be that easy. 

A rustling behind them made all three of them stop and look around, only to reveal that Addy had followed them. “Look who's here”, she said, arms crossed on her chest and smirking. “I thought Niv told you three to leave – and here you are, snooping around.”

“It's not what it looks like”, Bickslow said quickly, hands raised in defiance. “We're just...”

“... solving your problems”, added Evergreen snidely. 

Addy laughed out. And while Freed's heart had dropped to his stomach as she had appeared behind them, he didn't get the impression now that she was particularly angry at them. “Maybe you should start with your own problems”, she then said. “Like half of the people here being mad at you for interrupting last night's ceremony.”

At this, both Bickslow and Evergreen groaned.

“Are you part of this half or the other?”, Freed said instead.

“You've been hanging in that tree for long enough to know the answer”, Addy gave back. Freed nodded lightly, feeling slightly relieved. “Still, next time you're observing someone in a tree, wear camouflage and not bright blue pants, okay?”

Evergreen snorted at this, and Bickslow went a bit red.

“I suppose you will not tell Mr. Trent and the mayor about... about us?”, asked Freed, though the words tasted bitter on his tongue. This was not something he had ever wanted to have to ask someone. 

“Niv saw you, too”, Addy said easily. Freed exchanged a look with Bickslow, who grinned somewhat apologetically. “He wants me to tell you to 'Don't cause any more trouble and leave quietly'.”

“We can stay wherever we please”, Evergreen said.

“That's what I told Niv, too”, replied Addy and laughed. “And I'm certainly not going to ask you the same.”

“Then why did you come here?”, asked Freed.

“Why?”, said Addy mockingly. “Why? Because I'm curious, of course. What did you find out?”

Freed quickly glanced over to Evergreen with a look that hopefully told her to not speak about her ideas about the mayor and said: “Well, we are no experts on earthquakes, but the office building looks... peculiar.”

“You don't say.” Addy sighed deeply. “The other earthquakes were all much bigger.”

“And... whatever happened on the town square yesterday, we're almost certain it's magic.”

“That's what most of us think, too”, Addy replied. “But do you have an idea about where it's coming from?”

“You mean, who is responsible for it?”, Freed asked. As Addy nodded, Evergreen breathed in deeply and Freed raised his hand to silence her. “No, not yet.”

Addy let out a disappointed sigh. “Well, you haven't been here for even a day, so... I guess I'll have to be patient.”

“Do you people really think these things are gods?”, Bickslow said.

“Some of us, but they're usually rather... vocal about it”, Addy returned. “And can you blame them? None of us has experience with magic apart from the one or other entertainment lacrima. And then, these creatures appear out of thin air... and...” She shook her head as if to drive away an unwelcome thought. “You heard the voices last night, didn't you? The voices that come from everywhere, from creatures that seem to know all we're doing and what we're hiding? I'm not saying they're right, but I get why the people believe that these things are Gods, and why they're afraid. That's why this needs to end.”

Freed and Bickslow exchanged a look. “We need to see the Obelisk up close”, Freed said quietly. It seemed like the best option to involve her. “Maybe I can get more information about the source of the magic when I'm close to it.”

“You can't be there during the ceremony, you know that”, Addy returned quickly.

“But after it...?”, Freed offered. “The people need to go to sleep at some point. And if a bit of residual energy still remains, I might be able to make something of it.”

Addy looked deep in thought for a moment, then she said: “When you're in front of the gates looking at the town, there's a pretty big old chestnut to the right, a little into the forest. Meet me there after sundown and I'll see that I can get you onto the town square.”


	19. Below Trifoil

They reached the tree that Addy had described to them in the early afternoon, and it seemed that Freed was the only one who was content to spend the rest of the day waiting. He had enough questions still in mind that needed to be answered if he wanted to be effective figuring out what type of magic was at play during the ceremony. Bickslow and Evergreen, however, weren't as patient. Evergreen didn't talk again, but paced around only to suddenly sit down onto the ground for a few minutes before jumping back up and pacing again. After an hour had passed, and again after another, she took a brush out of her backpack and started brushing her hair, checking the folds of her skirt and herself in a pocket mirror. It wasn't quite as irritating as Bickslow swinging his legs from Freed's desktop, but every once in a while, it came close. Bickslow on the other hand spent a bit of time hanging upside down from a tree branch before he wandered off into the forest.

When he came back, the sky had already turned a light shade of orange. A stone was flying next to his head, larger than the pebbles Freed had seen him use so far.

As he noticed Freed's curious looks, he said: “Figured I'd better be prepared in case something goes wrong. The soul I found yesterday, it didn't... this one's better.”

“How so?”, asked Freed. He had considered so many questions in his mind that a distraction was welcome, at least one he was deliberately getting himself into.

Bickslow crunched up his nose and sat down next to him, the stone obediently following him. “Hard to explain... I guess you could say that this one here's a little stronger, if that makes sense. I found it deeper into the forest at a pond and tried to control it, but... it kinda refused, didn't want to let itself get locked up. But I won, and now that I've got it in that stone, it just... feels as if it's stronger.”

“That's sick”, said Evergreen coldly before Freed could have answered anything. “Like forcing animals into cages for your own amusement.”

“What do you know about that”, Bickslow grumbled, but he didn't even look at Evergreen. “Keep your nose out of my business.”

Evergreen only giggled triumphantly, Bickslow still looked at his feet. And Freed didn't dare asking if he thought Evergreen was right, it didn't seem like the right time for it. 

In the time they still needed to wait, neither of them spoke. Shortly after the sun had set, someone approached them from the forest.

“I see you found the place alright”, said Addy as a greeting. Her normal clothing closely resembled her work clothes, only that she additionally wore a flat cap in between her unruly hair. “Come on, we've got no time to waste.”

“It's still a couple of hours until the ceremony”, Freed said, though he got up and followed Addy into the forest. 

“And still a bit of way to walk, and... eh, well. Someone to talk to.”  
“Someone to talk to?”, repeated Evergreen and stopped immediately. “Who?”

“Don't panic, okay?”, Addy said in a calm voice. “I wanted to speak to him beforehand, but I didn't manage to because the mason took so long at the mines. But he lives at the town square and I'm pretty sure he'll let us use his study, at least.”

“Excuse me, are we talking about Mr. Trent?”, said Freed.

“Oh, sure”, said Addy easily.

They were walking again, even though Evergreen looked two steps away from stopping again. “Have you forgotten that he doesn't want us here?”, she hissed.

“I wouldn't say that”, replied Addy. She let them to the edge of the forest, where the houses of Trifoil were already visible. “He just doesn't want trouble with the people or his boss. He needs a little push sometimes.”

Though Freed wasn't sure whether or not seeking out Nivalius Trent was a good idea, they hardly had many other options and thus, he made no attempt at discussing the matter further with Addy. He had a rather different problem currently, and that was the golden fence that enclosed Trifoil. They would have to climb it at some point, or use their magic. And depending on how close the houses were, the possibility to be seen was not insubstantial. 

His worries were quickly put at ease, though, as Addy lead them to a place where the fence was visibly deformed as if someone or something had run into it and left a big dent in a couple of rods.

“Wild boar”, Addy told them. “Don't know what went into that thing, but the hunter says it simply ran straight into the fence. That was last year, we just didn't have the time to repair it yet since these creatures showed up.”

They had stopped a few metres away from the fence, behind a blackberry bush. Behind the fence, Freed could make out a couple of residential houses.

“Now listen up”, continued Addy in a conspiratorial voice. “A couple of people organised a sort of neighbourhood watch a while ago, and they're all at the town square at the moment.”

“Defending it against strangers?”, Evergreen said dangerously sweet.

Addy swayed her head. “Yeah. But that's a good thing.”

“I fail to see why”, said Evergreen.

“Because that means most of the houses in this area are empty at the moment, because the people are all guarding the town square. It's going to be easier to get to Niv's house, but we still need to be quick, and quiet.”

Her eyes rested on Evergreen for a while, and then on Bickslow. Then, she squatted down and drew a few lines into the ground with her finger. “We're some streets away from the town square. We're going this way...” She pointed at a part of the makeshift street map and explained their way in detail. “... we end up in Niv's backyard and get in.”

Bickslow giggled. “You make that sound like we're breaking into his house.”

Addy, much to Freed's surprise, grinned broadly. “Nope, it's not breaking in if I have a key. Now, let's get going.”

Their way through the fence and the back alleys of Trifoil, and Freed didn't take long to notice that Addy had been right. Nobody seemed to be out on the main streets, instead, a cloud of voices, quiet because of the distance, flew over to them from the direction of the town square, where the Obelisk towered over the other houses apart from the town hall. 

Nivalius Trent lived in a small but neat house so close to the town square that Freed could make out scraps of actual conversations, and the looming feeling of being watched that he had had since they had climbed through the fence grew stronger. Bickslow's almost unsettlingly enthusiastic grin as Addy took out a key and unlocked the back door did not help this feeling, either.

“Niv's outside with the other people. Said he felt like he had to be there making sure the mood didn't get too... heated up”, Addy said as she shut the door behind Evergreen.

They found themselves in a living room with very simple furniture that was so small it seemed crowded with only the four of them in. 

“I'll go and show my face and get Niv back here, and you three go to the study. It's up the stairs and faces the town square. Stay away from the windows, don't open the door to strangers, keep a low profile... yada, yada. You get the gist.”

“I like her”, said Bickslow as Addy left the same way they had entered. 

“I'm not sure this was a good idea”, said Freed.

“We can hardly leave now”, said Evergreen. “Unless we're trying that distraction manoeuvre you didn't like in the morning.”

She didn't wait for an answer, just went through the room in the other direction.

“Well, we're already in here...”, muttered Freed and followed her.

The study was almost larger than the living room, and Freed felt instantly more at ease in this room. There were three tall bookshelves that almost touched the ceiling, an antique looking desk and windows with very heavy – and thankfully closed – curtains. And despite the huge amount of books, folders and paper stacks, the room looked very structured and neat.

Evergreen was the first of them to be curious enough to peek through the curtains. Freed followed suit. The town square was crowded with people, and around the hedge that encircled the Obelisk some sort of guard had formed: Men and women, partially wearing the guard's uniform of Trifoil, standing there with their arms crossed and their shoulders touching. It seemed impossible for them to even set a foot onto the town square in its current state.

However, they also didn't need to wait for long until the door in the lower floor fell shut. 

“I don't know what went into you”, hissed Nivalius Trent. “Half the town is at their heels and you hide them in my house?”

“Nobody's going to look here, the people trust you”, Addy replied.

“And I'd like it to stay that way, thank you very much”, grumbled Nivalius Trent. Freed heard steps on the staircase. 

“They'll trust you even more when this spook found an end and you were the one to make it happen”, said Addy.

“You know as well as I that the mayor won't... forget it.”

“He's not looking his best, your boss, throughout all of this”, said Addy.

Nivalius Trent didn't answer. He pushed open the door to his study that they had left half-ajar, and it was impossible to tell whether he was that red in the face because he was angry or embarrassed.

“I seem to recall that I told you to leave. Twice”, he said. 

“When we're here during the ceremony, you can make sure we do not interrupt it again”, said Freed calmly. He had thought of this as their best argument as they had waited for Mr. Trent's and Addy's return. “But we need to take a look at the town square once these creatures have left.”

“Seriously, Niv. What else can we do?”, said Addy, who had now appeared in the door behind him. “It's magic, and unless you learned some from one of your books, these three are our best shot at the moment.”

For a moment, Nivalius Trent looked torn, then, he sighed. “You like this, Addy, don't you. The fait accompli.” 

Addy laughed. “Nope, I just know you too well.”

“Well, then... let's hear it. What are you planning to do?” He stepped into the room fully, let Addy do the same. Then, he mustered Freed, Evergreen and Bickslow and his eyes suddenly turned more quizzical. “Is that a stone flying around your head?”

“Yep”, said Bickslow, and in a matter-of-fact voice that he probably hoped sounded professional. “I might need it later.”

Addy giggled a litte, but Nivalius Trent shook his head. “Fine with me, but don't break anything in here.”

“I want to know what kind of magic is at work during the ceremony”, Freed then started. 

Nivalius Trent's attention went back to him immediately. “So what happens at night really is magic.”

“Most likely. However, none of us have seen such a thing before.”

“You're from Fairy Tail”, said Nivalius Trent, his eyes moving over to Freed's hand. “Are these...?”

“No!”, said Evergreen forcefully. “Whatever these things are, they aren't fairies.”

“How would you know?”, Nivalius Trent said. “I've read that nobody actually ever saw a real fairy.” He sounded thoughtful now, but not sceptical; like someone who was entertaining multiple solutions to a problem in his head and needed to make sure of all the facts. 

Evergreen, however, went a little red. “I simply know”, she said airily.

Freed could almost feel that Nivalius Trent would not let this stand as an argument. “It's highly unlikely that these are real fairies”, he said. “If creatures like these have not been sighted yet, the probability of so many suddenly showing up in a village is small, at best.”

“I agree on that”, said Nivalius Trent. “I've tried to read up whether incidents like this have been reported in other villages, but I found nothing. Admittedly, my resources are limited.”

“It will surely help seeing a ceremony undisturbed”, said Freed. “There are several forms of magic that could be employed to make the gifts at the Obelisk vanish, and if we know exactly which one, maybe we find out what happens with the gifts afterwards.”

Nivalius Trent had followed Freed attentively, went over to one of his bookshelves and took out a folder. “I've read up on this, as well”, he said, skimming through the pages.

Bickslow snorted a little. “You're made for each other, buddy”, he mumbled. 

Nivalius Trent didn't hear him, but Evergreen did, and she giggled.

“It seems that Teleportation Magic would be a possibility to transport the goods to a different place.”

“I have been thinking about that, as well”, replied Freed. “There is also a branch of magic called Requip, that uses a sort of pocket dimension to store a number of items. I think something like this could be utilised, too. Any form of spatial displacement magic would do, I'm afraid. That's why I need to get closer to the Obelisk after the ceremony. I have means of testing if a certain type of magic has been used in the area recently.”

It seemed as if their small discussion had left Nivalius Trent with more confidence in their plan. After a little while in which he read in his folder, he asked all of them down into his living room at offered them something for dinner.

As the hours to midnight progressed and Freed spent the time talking to Nivalius Trent, he realised that Trent had done a lot of research behind the mayor's back and felt equally proud of his results and ashamed that he had acted against his superior's wishes. 

“If you allow, I have a question of a more personal nature”, said Freed after they had discussed the qualities of the pocket dimension created by Requip magic. Freed had done most of the explaining, and Nivalius Trent had listened carefully and asked some very accurate questions. It had also felt a little odd that for once, Freed was lecturing an adult, and not vice versa.

“Go ahead.”

“How come you are so interested in magic? Don't get me wrong, but the other town people seem... less enthusiastic about it.”

At this, Nivalius Trent laughed a little. “Trifoil doesn't have a local guild, and for all intents and purposes, magic is a rather... foreign concept to many inhabitants”, he said. “There were attempts of locating a guild here during the last decades, but they weren't fruitful. But, of course, that doesn't mean there aren't any wizards born in Trifoil, it happens every once in a while. And without a guild to find education or work in, most of them leave sooner or later. I... came to think this situation is a shame for the village.”

Nivalius Trent's voice had taken on an almost wistful tone now, and Freed was nearly convinced he wouldn't continue. Indeed, he kept silent for a bit now, staring almost forlorn at his knees as if something was happening on the inside of his glasses. Freed kept looking at him, wondering if there was something yet to come, and almost overheard that Addy, Bickslow and Evergreen, who had been talking about something different, had become quiet.

“That look again?”, Addy then said quite softly, though the sudden noise still felt to Freed as if someone had rung a bell. 

He jerked his head around to her; she had a look in her eyes that seemed to mirror the one on Nivalius Trent's face. “I don't get why you don't simply write to her and tell her you miss her.”

“It's been so long”, said Nivalius Trent, but he didn't sound hostile. “I can hardly tell her now.”

“That's the same argument you've been bringing for four years now”, Addy countered. And, as Evergreen next to her cleared her throat quite loudly, she added: “My younger sister Ilya is a wizard, you know. Could do all sorts of things with flowers; make them bloom, change their colour, these kind of things. She left Trifoil when she was sixteen, said it felt too constricting for her. She and Niv were... close.”

Addy looked over to Nivalius Trent, who still stared at his knees. He made an effort to collect himself, raised his head and adjusted his glasses. “I had just started as the mayor's assistant when Ilya first spoke of leaving”, he said, and Freed had to admit that he wasn't sure if he would have answered in the assistant's position. It seemed to be very personal. “Needless to say, I didn't want to leave with her, and eventually stayed when she did leave. I... I still get a Christmas card every year, from a country called Alvarez on a different continent.”

“You think she'd still be here if there'd been a guild?”, said Bickslow. 

Nivalius Trent shrugged his shoulders. “I don't know. Maybe I ---”

But in that moment and before he could finish, the clock he had mounted above the door to the kitchen struck midnight; they had forgotten about the time. Evergreen was up the stairs to the study before Nivalius Trent had even gotten up from his chair, followed by Bickslow and Freed.

When Freed reached the study and finally looked onto the town square, it was already dark and deserted, not even the guard of people still stood around the hedge. The glowing creatures had already appeared and the Obelisk glowed in an eerily bright white light. The creatures flew a ring around the Obelisk, then around the pile of valuables in front of it, now undisturbed. The ring around the pile of valuables grew brighter, it seemed, the longer this endured, and the creatures flew faster and faster until they seemed to melt together into a single veil of light. 

It was over just as quick as it had begun; suddenly, all was dark again and in the time it took for Freed's eyes to adjust, he saw lights going on in the houses around the plaza, doors being opened and people streaming onto the town square. And only as a couple of them ran towards the hedge around the Obelisk Freed realised that the meadow was now empty; and the complete pile of valuables had vanished.

“Niv went outside, he's making sure the people go to bed now”, said Addy. She stood in the door frame again. “Give them half an hour, and you can go outside.”

Waiting for the town square to clear now for even five minutes seemed worse than waiting for the entire afternoon to meet with Addy, or waiting in the house for the clock to strike midnight. Bickslow absent-mindedly started making handstands much to Evergreen's irritation, who sat at the desk her hands clasped together so firmly they seemed like a single object. Freed still looked at the town square, his mind racing to figure out what kind of magic was at work while knowing that with every passing minute, the traces of magic would grow weaker and weaker.

Finally, after almost forty minutes, the last light in an adjacent house went out and Nivalius Trent returned. Freed, Evergreen and Bickslow were out on the town square in a heartbeat, and Freed almost immediately began inscribing the ground with runes that would hopefully tell him what had happened.

“That stuff really is just gone”, Bickslow said disbelievingly. He knelt on the place where the pile of valuables had been, stroking through the grass with his fingers as if he was looking for an item he had lost.

“I need to place a rune where you're sitting”, said Freed.

Bickslow left the spot, brows wrinkled.

Evergreen, meanwhile, busied herself inspecting the Obelisk. “It's just a big stone”, she said, somewhat impatiently. 

Freed closed the circle he had been writing around the place where the valuables had previously been. Nothing happened. Not feeling disheartened just yet, Freed let the runes disappear and started anew with a different configuration. With the way his magic worked, he needed to use a different set of runes for every type of magic that he could think of. But neither any form of Requip Magic, nor Teleportation Magic, nor the few Spatial Displacement Magics that he knew seemed to be in effect.

“I trust you know what you're doing?”, he heard Evergreen say as he had just started checking for a sort of magic that could manipulate the size of objects. “Is it normal that nothing happens when you do this?”

“Chill, Freed's got this”, said Bickslow, so casual he almost sounded bored. He sat on the meadow a couple of steps away from Freed. 

“So far I don't see results”, Evergreen snapped. 

Unfortunately, she was right and Freed was additionally running out of ideas. It shouldn't be as difficult as this, his runes had never forsaken him and he knew that theoretically, his plan should have worked. But he didn't want to show his frustration, especially not while Evergreen was present, and went on to test another type of magic.

“Hey, those creatures don't seem to be very thorough”, said Bickslow suddenly.

Freed looked up from his runes to see him leaving the small meadow, picking up something and then coming back. 

“Looks like they've forgotten something”, Bickslow said. And indeed, he was holding a golden ring in his hand.

Evergreen, now interested again, joined the two of them and grabbed the ring. “I doubt someone just lost that, I bet it's been part of the offering.”

“Where did you find it exactly?”, asked Freed.

And when Bickslow showed him a spot slightly outside of the hedge, Freed had another idea. “Search the hedge”, he said to the other two, already down on his knees and pushing branches away. 

Bickslow just shrugged and did as he was asked, Evergreen crossed her arms on her chest and did not move a single centimetre.

“Why would I---”, she started.

But Freed interrupted her. He had found what he had been looking for, and elation spread in his stomach. “Because of this.”

He held the branches apart, revealing a small crystal that had been planted onto the ground and hidden within the hedge.

“It's a lacrima crystal, and I bet my sword it holds a sort of magic that can teleport the offerings away. I had tested the area only for caster magic, but lacrimas aren't caster magic.”

“I've got one, too”, said Bickslow, a few metres away.

Now with Evergreen's help, they found a total of six lacrima around the hedge. Then, they returned to Nivalius Trent's house.

“The lacrima crystals create a magical field that encompasses the area around the Obelisk, and everything within the field is teleported away”, Freed explained to Nivalius Trent and Addy, who listened both very carefully. “I cannot tell where to, but once I knew that lacrima were involved, I could at least exclude the option of a pocket dimension or something similar.”

“That's why they stopped yesterday”, said Addy. “Because Evergreen would've been teleported as well and would've found their stash!”

“Precisely”, said Freed. 

“Does that mean that if we find out where the teleportation leads, we might find all that was stolen from Trifoil?”, said Nivalius Trent.

“It is possible, yes.”

Nivalius Trent looked at Freed very thoughtfully. “Can you tell me anything else about the magic at work?”

“About Teleportation Magic?”, asked Freed. Trent nodded. “It's rather difficult, from what I've heard, and I would assume that producing lacrima that hold this specific magic would be difficult, and probably expensive. The key point is having a clear understanding of the place you want to teleport to, I don't know exactly how that would translate to a lacrima. I think they might be set to transport things to a certain location.”

“How far away could that be?”

“If I had to make a guess, I'd say not very far. The amount of magic stored in the lacrima is limited.”

Nivalius Trend took a deep breath and readjusted his glasses. “Then I think I know where we have to search.”

“Where?”, blurted Addy.

“Below Trifoil, in the old mines below the town square.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I had the idea for this story arc, I thought to myself: "This time, I'll just have a regular NPC who hands out the job, no backstory needed; it'll be small and simple and it will be relieving to write a character without tragedy in his past for once."  
> ...  
> And then along came Nivalius Trent. And I failed. Because of course, he needed that drama in his backstory.


	20. Nivalius Trent

As soon as his suspicion was out, Nivalius Trent's face lit up with a so far unseen enthusiasm. A hand on his chin he murmured to nobody in particular: “Of course, of course... the mines make sense. They haven't been used in several decades, nobody would suspect the culprit... or maybe culprits? … to store the valuables there. And with so much unused space... there might be a chance we'll find everything down there!” 

Then, with an almost Bickslow-like grin, he jumped up and taking two steps at once ran up the staircase that led to his study. 

“That's all fine and dandy, Niv”, Addy said finally as Nivalius Trent returned with two big binders and his nose in a book. She had looked at Nivalius Trent with raised brows for a while now, but so far had remained quiet. “But all the entries to the old mines collapsed during the early earthquakes. There's no way to get there unless someone dug a new entry and I guess we'd have noticed that.”

Nivalius Trent didn't seem to take note of her at first. He was simultaneously reading a passage from the book and comparing it to a map from one of the binders. “Mining office... main entry, forest side entry... both blocked now. Ventilation shafts, accommodation shafts...”

“Niv?”

“Mr. Trent?”, asked Freed. As an outsider, it was even harder to follow Nivalius Trent's train of thoughts than it must have been for Addy, and Freed found her argumentation to be rather convincing. 

Freed wasn't certain if Nivalius Trent had really heard them, but at least, he exclaimed: “Here!”, a few seconds later and pushed the map in the centre of the table so that everyone could see it.

“There's still one of the original entries to the mines intact, this one”, Nivalius Trent said. He pointed at a small dotted line on the map, running from one of the edges of the map towards a big space in the centre that seemed to mark a cavern or something similar. 

“That's the old main shaft”, Addy said. She trailed a larger path that also lead to the the cavern in the centre of the map but started at a different spot. “So that's the main mine, then; town square now. Then that shaft leads to... was that the old mining office?” 

Her finger rested on the end of the dotted path now.

Nivalius Trent nodded. His cheeks had, in his excitement, turned a rather vibrant shade of red. “Yes. It was used for important messages between the workers and the foreman, it says here”, he lifted the book as proof. “The current mines don't need that since the mining office is at the main entry, but that wasn't the case back then. I've heard about that shaft once.”

“Me too, but I didn't know it still existed. I thought they'd clogged it up when the mines were closed.”

“They kept it intact when they build the Obelisk. Maintenance reasons.” 

Nivalius Trent pulled the second binder closer, and searched for something in it. Then, he took out a building plan. “Here: The Obelisk is stabilised from the mines below, and it specifically mentions the old messaging shaft for maintenance work.”

“So what are we waiting for, where's that ominous old shaft? Let's go down there”, Evergreen suddenly said loudly. 

Nivalius Trent looked over to her, then to Bickslow and the stone flying next to him and last to Freed, as if he had forgotten they were still there.

“Of course”, he then said. He adjusted his glasses, cleared his throat, and continued in a far more dignified tone: “The old mining office has been taken down as the mines were closed. On its spot the town hall has been erected.”

“The town hall?”, said Freed.

“Sits on the entry to the mines?”, said Bickslow.

“Where all the valuables probably are...”, Evergreen singsonged. She send Freed a cold stare. “Which means that---”

“You don't know that for sure”, Freed said hastily.

Evergreen only smiled sweetly. “He's still got all of his valuables and sits on the entrance to the literal treasure chamber.”

“Yes, but---”

“No but!”, said Evergreen loudly. “That old peacock didn't even want someone investigating!”

“Excuse me”, said Nivalius Trent sharply. “What are you talking about? Is there something you didn't tell us before?”

Freed took a deep breath. Objectively thinking, their evidence wasn't far thinner than what they had concerning the vanishing goods.

“Tell him, or I do”, said Evergreen harshly.

“Just do it, buddy, she's not wrong”, said Bickslow. 

Freed sighed. “We... we suspect that mayor Ornua might... know more than he admits.”

“The mayor?”, said Addy.

“No”, said Nivalius Trent determinedly. “What makes you think that? Is it because...”

“... what Evergreen said, yes. We noticed that the mayor still wears his golden necklace, and the town hall is decorated with so much gold that... it seemed strange that he never offered it in one of the ceremonies.”

“That's not evidence”, said Nivalius Trent quickly. 

“But you have to give them that the mayor really hasn't been of a lot of help these past weeks”, said Addy. “I wouldn't put it past him.”

Nivalius Trent looked over to her as if she had personally betrayed him. “Addy, he's the mayor! He represents the people of this town, and he has for decades! He would not misuse his power like that and betray the people he's sworn to look out for!”

“Just because you're too noble to even think of that, doesn't mean other aren't”, Addy said. 

“He's not even a mage!”, said Nivalius Trent indignantly. 

“How do you know?”, said Freed suddenly. Nivalius Trent send him a quizzical look. “I mean, he could simply not have used his abilities publicly.”

A dry laugh escaped Nivalius Trent's lips. “Please. The mayor is almost in his sixties, somebody would have noticed it if he's a wizard after all these years.”

“Depends on the type of magic he, hypothetically, uses”, Freed said. He had made the mistake of believing his opponent could not be a mage once, he would not make it twice. This time, he had to take into account all possibilities, if he liked it or not. Evergreen was at least right with that. “Not all magic makes flowers change the colour of their blossoms. Additionally, if lacrima are involved, there might not even be a need for the culprit to be a mage. It might simply be someone using even more lacrima, which might also explain the light creatures.”

“I've been working for mayor Ornua for the past seven years”, Nivalius Trent said, in the tone of man steadfastly denying all arguments presented to him. “He wouldn't betray Trifoil like that.”

“Only one way to proof that”, said Addy. “Let's go down there and see for ourselves.”

  


...

  


Determined to proof their suspicions wrong, Nivalius Trent lead them to the town hall; through the great entrance and down a smaller corridor and a staircase that ended in the building's cellar. It apparently housed kitchens and multiple storage rooms, in one of which, below a rug and a trapdoor, a ladder went down into the old message shaft that Nivalius Trent had spoken about. 

They had to get in one after the other, with Nivalius Trent going first, Freed following him. Evergreen came next, then Bickslow, and Addy took the ladder down to the shaft last. As it could have been expected considering the time, they met nobody on their way to or through the town hall, and, as far as Freed was concerned, the shaft looked as if it hadn't been used in a while, as well. It was dusty, and while there were iron mountings on the wall that could hold torches or oil lamps, the passage was entirely dark. The only sign of more recent activity from any living being were a big number of large cobwebs hanging in between the wooden support beams. For once, Freed felt rather relieved that he wasn't as tall as Bickslow, who cursed a couple of times as he walked through some low hanging cobwebs.

They spoke little, but Freed was certain that he wasn't the only one wondering if their initial deductions were correct seeing that the only entry to the caverns below the town square was in this particular state. He thought to have heard Nivalius Trent mutter to himself, only to square his shoulders and walk ahead with more determination in his steps. 

Once the shaft took a sharp turn, however, Freed's doubts were dissipated: Instead of the pitch black they had moved in so far, at the end of the shaft there was a light hinting at the existence of a room. 

Nivalius Trent stopped. “That's where the main cavern is”, he whispered over his shoulder. “Someone must have been there.”

“I should go first”, Freed whispered in return, and drew his rapier. “In case the culprit is there, I can seal the shaft and allow us to regroup.”

“Are you expecting a battle?”, Nivalius Trent said, but allowed Freed and Evergreen, who followed suit, to squeeze past him. “Are you experienced in combat?”

“I have been training with the sword for as long as I can remember”, Freed replied, and it seemed to be enough of an answer for Nivalius Trent.

Step by step carefully avoiding any loud noises, Freed went ahead now. He had wanted a scenario that allowed him to gauge his magical ability when he had taken the job that had lead them here, so this might be the first chance that he could get. If it really was the mayor who awaited them in the cavern didn't even matter; this would, in any case, test Freed's ability to react to an unforeseeable situation. 

But once they reached the cavern, Freed quickly realised that he wouldn't have needed to be on his guard like that. Nobody was there, but that, on the other hand, did not mean that nobody had been there in the near past.

And the sight that they were presented with made Nivalius Trent's jaw drop a little bit, and even Bickslow only whistled as he entered.

It wasn't until Addy came in that somebody said a word. “You were right, Niv!”, she exclaimed and clapped her friend on the back. 

Then, her eyes went around like everyone else's, from the wooden beams that supported the ceiling in the centre of the cavern, to the pile of valuables lying on a huge table, until they jumped back and forth between the sheer amount of crystals that were all over the cavern walls – and the single one in the centre that alone was taller than Evergreen and about four times as wide.

“What the hell...”, muttered Bickslow, who had went forward to a wall that seemed embedded with an exceptional amount of crystals. 

“I cannot image any gemstone deposits left in the old mines of Trifoil”, said Nivalius Trent. His eyes were also glued to the walls, though he had went towards the table with the valuables. “And the large one is... what is this?”

“More lacrima”, said Freed. “It's the only sensible conclusion. I could test a few of them for their function, but it might take a while.”

“You don't have to do that”, said Evergreen. “I guess I know what's happening with these.”

She had walked over to Bickslow and was mustering the lacrima. Then, she made a few steps back and forth in front of the wall with her eyes still on the crystals. “They react to movements close by”, Evergreen said.

Bickslow jumped up and put special force in his landing, hitting the ground hard. Some lacrima right in front of him glowed especially bright. “Yeah... looks like it.”

Freed joined them now, too. “That probably means that the culprit uses these to track movement on the town square. When there's someone close, they give off light...”

“... and the teleport is stopped”, continued Evergreen. 

“They must have cost a fortune”, Freed said. “When we were talking about lacrima in my classes on magic, my tutor said that producing lacrima with such advanced magic is not simple.”

“Then what's up with the big one”, said Bickslow. “If you think the small ones are expensive, that thing alone has to be worth all the gold in the town hall.”

“Quite possibly”, said Freed. “If I had to make a guess, I'd say that this lacrima somehow creates the light creatures, but I have no means to support that. I have never seen magic like this.”

“How's a crystal like that supposed to make creatures?”, said Bickslow. He mustered the large lacrima now, trying to look through it like through the glass on a shop front.

“That weren't real creatures”, Evergreen said coldly, as if it was the most obvious fact. “Just some fancy light effects.”

“I don't know”, said Freed slowly. “Mr. Trent said that before the offerings started, valuables and goods were taken from the houses of the people of Trifoil. That means that whatever this lacrima creates, if it has something to do with the creatures, it must have means to interact with solid objects. Light alone doesn't do that.”

“In any case, the offerings are incomplete”, said Nivalius Trent suddenly. 

The three wizards joined him at the table now. His brow was wrinkled, and he stared intently at the remaining valuables. Freed saw it now, as well. The pile was far smaller than the one he had seen in the evening on the plaza. 

“I would assume about half of it is gone, and I see no hints at the valuables that were stolen the last couple of times. This is only a fraction of what Trifoil has lost”, he said, bitterness in his voice.

“At least, we found this”, said Addy. “And we can make sure now that...” But she stopped, suddenly started looking around, from the ceiling to the lacrima on the wall.

The ones on the wall where the entrance of the message shaft was located were glowing faintly. “Somebody's coming”, Addy said. “Quick, over there, get into the main shaft!”

She grabbed Nivalius Trent roughly on his arm and pulled him into a wider passage opposite to the message shaft. The pulsing in the lacrima embedded in the walls grew stronger, and Freed, Evergreen and Bickslow quickly followed them into the darkness of the passage.

Freed expected someone to enter the cavern the same way that they had come. But a couple of tense seconds later, as the lights in the crystals on the wall started glowing like light bulbs, he was proven wrong. Suddenly, the very walls of the cavern seemed to break apart in small pieces of rock and earth, almost like a puzzle. They rearranged themselves in a grand archway that lead someone through and then closed itself again behind him, leaving the wall in exact the same state as before.

Next to Freed, Nivalius Trent freed his arm from Addy's grip. Pure shock was edged into his face, his jaw stood open as he took a step back into the cavern like a man who had seen a ghost. 

“Mr. Trent...”, muttered Freed, but he wasn't taken note of.

“No!”, exclaimed Nivalius Trent loudly and stepped back into the cavern, fully.

And of course, the other man noticed him. “Nivalius”, mayor Ornua said in his sugary voice, a smile moving across his face. “I admit I haven't been expecting you here.”

“Did you just... did you... you walked through the wall”, stuttered Nivalius Trent.

Bickslow behind Freed started moving, but Freed held him back. There was no immediate danger to Nivalius Trent, and maybe, the moment of surprise would come in handy once more.

“Of course I did, Nivalius”, said the mayor calmly, his smile never faltering. “Earth magic allows you to do that.”

As Nivalius Trent said nothing, the mayor started moving through the room, towards the table with the valuables, and took out a big bag from one of his pockets.

The sight seemed to fill Nivalius Trent with new determination. He straightened himself to his full height, adjusted his glasses and then said, almost calm: “You created the earthquakes then.”

“Of course I did.”

“And the last one... you needed to make sure the documents for the shipping to Bosco were still left intact, that's why the office was left functional.”

The mayor hardly looked up from the pile of valuables on the table, rather, he packed it all into his bag, almost phlegmatically. Freed hoped that it was a sign that he hadn't noticed them yet. 

“These lacrima cost a fortune, you see”, said the mayor. “Building up this room was a big investment, and I need to make sure that it pays off in every possible way. The shipment will get Trifoil a lot of money, and the _Gods_ will be pleased.” 

He let out a soft giggle that almost made Evergreen move. She raised her hands to her glasses, her eyes burning green.

“No!”, whispered Freed.

Evergreen gulped, but left her glasses on her nose. “I swear when he looks in my direction...”, she whispered.

“I can't believe it”, Nivalius Trent said, his voice trembling. “You have already been mayor of this town when I was born! These things belong to the people you are sworn to protect, to care for! And after so many years... you bleed us out like old cattle?”

“I am old, as well, Nivalius”, said the mayor. He was still not taking any particular interest in the situation, and Freed started to find it unsettling. “And Trifoil isn't a good place to enjoy my sunset years. Do not worry, I will leave this town soon, and the people shall be left to themselves.”

Nivalius Trent took a deep breath. His face was stony as he raised his fists and said: “I will not let you do this.”

“You know it's futile”, the mayor said sweetly, finally looking up.

“I do”, said Nivalius Trent. “But I won't stand by, anyway.”

It was too much for Addy, who stormed out of the shaft her fists clenched. Nivalius Trent quickly and discreetly looked into the shadows of the main shaft, then to Addy, who came to stand next to him. “I won't let you do this alone”, she said. 

“Ms. Ivansku... I must admit; you, I somewhat have been expecting”, the mayor said. His interest in the situation seemed to get stronger, but he had also almost filled the bag with the remaining valuables. They were running out of time. Freed had hoped that the mayor would turn his back on the main shaft to make it easier to attack, but it didn't seem to happen.

“You're the dirtiest son of bitch I've ever come across”, spat Addy.

“I assume that is an honour”, the mayor replied evenly. 

He packed up the last parts of the valuables, and Freed knew he had to react now. He pushed his hair out of his right eye and wrote a paralysing rune into the air before him, sending it towards the mayor. He was standing half-turned away, that had to do.

But as a boulder soared up from the ground and obscured the passage for his rune, Freed knew it had never been that simple. A heart beat later, three more boulders soared down from the ceiling and blocked the main shaft entry right in front of them.

“You aren't very good at hiding, none of you”, the mayor said. Laughter was creeping into his voice. “Three teenagers, waiting for their grand moment to catch me red-handed even though my dear assistant should have send them away more than twenty-four hours ago... He's not all that trusty, my assistant. Don't you agree, Nivalius?”

Freed and Bickslow pushed against the boulders, they could look through, but even Bickslow wasn't nimble enough to fit through them. 

Nivalius Trent on the other side, though, didn't wait any longer. Instead, he jumped forward, his face burning as fiercely as his hair. He obviously tried to hit the mayor with his fists, but another boulder shooting up from the ground struck him down before and with a loud cry, he landed on the ground.

“Niv!”, shouted Addy, and as she tried the same, another boulder threw her onto a pile with her friend.

It seemed almost too easy for the mayor.

“Now, now... you don't have to make this difficult”, he said. “It will save you a lot of pain if you just don't start trying.”

Bickslow let the rock he controlled fly through the boulders, it soared faster than Freed had seen it until then. For a glorious moment, it seemed he would be successful; but then, the rock simply burst apart, only centimetres away from the mayor's head and crumbled onto the ground in fine dust.

“Dammit!”

“You are all very stupid”, the mayor said. He almost laughed now. “Trying to beat me in my own element.”

“Out of my way!”, screamed Evergreen.

Freed turned around to find her with the wings her magic granted her, flying in the shaft behind them. He had not taken in the sight properly the first time; the wings were of a pale pink, almost translucent like the wings of a dragonfly; just far, far more dangerous. A fine golden powder trickled down from them already. 

“Do it, Bickslow!”, cried Freed.

Evergreen gathered the dust in a ball before herself and launched it directly at the boulders blocking their path, and with a deafening crash, they burst into little pieces. Evergreen soared out of the shaft immediately.

Freed had no time to think of a plan, he simply conjured up his own wings and followed her, shielding his eyes with his arms against the rubble.

Evergreen was already gathering another ball of her fairy dust while simultaneously evading more boulders coming up from the ground or down from the ceiling. Just as Freed reached her, she hurled it at the mayor, who only had to lift a hand and another boulder shooting up took the hit for him. 

Freed had a quick look over to Addy and Nivalius Trent. Thankfully, both were conscious, though Nivalius Trent bled from his chin and Addy had a scratch on her shoulder. He had to hope they would not interfere.

It was hard to aim straight with boulders constantly getting in the way. Freed found himself in the same predicament as Evergreen, trying to land a hit on the mayor while evading the moving boulders and being constrained by the limits of the cavern. He couldn't even get close enough for his rapier to function as an actual weapon, and not as an improvised writing pen. All they needed was one moment, just the briefest of glances; just one of his runes getting through, one paralysing rune, and the fight would be over. He needed to do something to create an opening for himself, a fast combination that would first blast the obstacles away and then stun the mayor. Maybe, if he could get behind Evergreen, he could use the time when she blasted the rocks in front of her away. She was already gathering another ball of fairy dust, her face twisted between anger and concentration.

A boulder shot down from the ceiling close to Freed, but before he could evade it, it was hit by the ball of golden dust and burst into pieces. A dull pain in his stomach was the first thing Freed felt as a big chunk of the boulder threw him out of balance. He lost control of his wings for a moment, swerved back and forth through the air and could barely prevent falling to the ground.

“What's that, bitch! Watch it!”, growled Bickslow from somewhere below him.

Freed had no time to look towards him. He had to breath in deeply, stabilise himself, and concentrate. The mayor had taken advantage of the situation, a row of boulders soared up from the ground, all flying towards where Freed was half-hanging in the air trying to find his balance. Two of them exploded as another ball of fairy dust hit them, Freed managed to evade two. He only realised that there had been a fifth one as it crumbled a couple of centimetres away from his face, hit by what had looked like a beam of pure, greenish glowing energy.

“Freed!”

Perplexed, Freed looked for the source of the beam. He found Bickslow looking back and forth between his outstretched hand and the golden ring he had found on the plaza flying in the air before him, his face a picture of absolute bewilderment.

“Get your act together!”, cried Evergreen.

The boys both yanked their heads away to find a few more boulders soaring towards them. Freed evaded them with newly stabilised control over his wings.

And Bickslow, evading the attacks as well and gaining control of his expression again, seemed to also want to join in the fight now. He navigated his flying ring towards them, towards the mayor. With three sources attacking him, maybe there was a chance Freed could catch the mayor off guard.

And indeed, for a moment, the mayor seemed to be busy with them attacking; had to block more than he could send boulders flying towards either of them. Evergreen conjured up balls of fairy dust in rapid succession, Freed sent paralysing runes flying towards the mayor, and Bickslow used the flying ring like a bullet, letting it soar towards the mayor's head, but hitting rock more often than not. From time to time, the ring seemed to glow with a white green light, but no other beam came from it again.

They seemed to have reached a sort of stalemate, but Freed realised soon enough that the time wasn't on their side. He wasn't burning through his magical energy, but Evergreen was getting more sweaty with every passing second, and the movements of Bickslow's flying ring became less focussed, a little more erratic. Both weren't trained to fight. They had to end this quickly.

They had to create an opening, and fast. 

Following his initial plan, Freed soared towards a place behind Evergreen, prepared to write a rune as soon as she would blast away another of the boulders. 

But the mayor was fast, as well. As he noticed Freed moving, he redirected the rock that had been meant for him, let it follow Freed through the air. Freed evaded it by flying lower.

But then, someone cried in pain, and as he turned around, all Freed could see was blinding greenish white light. He heard something big shatter, knowing it boded ill, but only as his eyes had readjusted and the dust had settled, he saw that Bickslow was kneeling on the ground, the ring forgotten next to him. And the big lacrima crystal in the centre of the room was no more, it had shattered into hundreds of pieces, hit by whatever Bickslow's magic had produced as the boulder meant for Freed had hit him instead.

“You little piece of shit!”, shouted the mayor, his voice now hard and cold and not at all sweetish. “That has cost me a fortune!”

Bickslow laughed darkly, but held his stomach and fought to get back onto his feet. “You're welcome.”

“I've got enough of this”, hissed Evergreen. She yanked her glasses away, and a dull green light spread out in front of her.

“Don't look at her eyes!”, called Freed instinctively. He had meant it for Nivalius Trent and Addy, who had crawled back into the messaging shaft, but as soon as the words had left his lips, he knew it had been a mistake.

“You fucking idiot!”, screamed Evergreen. 

The mayor only laughed out. “Thank you, my dear”, he said and closed his eyes. 

Freed could have hit himself. A wall of blocks shot up from the ground, enclosed the mayor fully. Evergreen attacked it with her magic, cracked a bit of it open, but the mayor sealed it again quickly. 

“I've been thinking”, said the mayor, his voice sweet again, but muffled by the rocks that surrounded him. “The whole time you've been trying to resist, actually. And I think I know a solution to our dilemma.”

Suddenly, a low, dangerously close rumbling seemed to fill the air. 

“I had interest in keeping this room intact, you see”, the mayor said. The rumbling grew stronger, dust was now falling down from the ceiling. “But now that my precious lacrima has been destroyed... and it was going to be the last shipment, anyway.”

“It's an earthquake!”, shouted Freed.

And just in time; a rock fell down next to him, another landed with a deafening crash on the table. All over the cavern, similar rocks came falling down; but they weren't part of the mayor's magic creations; they were former parts of the ceiling. In the main shaft, a wooden support beam broke.

“Run!”, shouted Nivalius Trent from the messaging shaft.

Bickslow followed suit as quick as he could. Evergreen, though, didn't move. She still attacked the barrier that the mayor had erected around himself.

“We need to get out of here!”, cried Freed, but she didn't move.

A particularly big rock came crashing down, the noise level rose to almost ear-splitting levels. They had to move now.

Freed flew over to Evergreen, who gathered another ball of fairy dust in front of her.

“Evergreen...!”

“I will see him punished!”, she shouted through gritted teeth.

Freed grabbed her hand instinctively, pulled her towards himself just in time to get her out of the way of another support pillar coming down. Already nothing was left from the detection lacrima in the walls. 

“Let me go!”, she shouted, but Freed didn't oblige.

He wanted to drag her towards the messaging shaft, and he was stronger than her. Her other hand reached out for his arm, she dug her fingernails into his flesh but he didn't let her go. 

“We need to leave!”, he said again, amidst all the rubble and dust, looked over to her.

For a split second, his eyes met hers. She wasn't wearing her glasses, and looked honestly shocked. Freed felt his left hand and leg getting number, his grip on her arm loosening, but just as it had with Bickslow so many weeks ago, her eyes did not have the effect on him he would have expected.

Another deafening crash followed, both tore their eyes away, and the feeling in his arm and leg returned. The entrance to the messaging shaft had collapsed.

“Freed!”, cried Bickslow, his muffled voice seeming to come from within the shaft. “Evergreen!”

Another support beam crashed down from under the Obelisk.

“You've got to trust me”, Freed said quietly to Evergreen, despite the loud noises.

She was still looking shocked, but Freed had made up his mind. He grabbed her other arm, dragged her behind himself towards a spot far away from the Obelisk.

“What are you doing!”, she screeched as he pulled her into a tight embrace, writing a few important runes into the ground with his feet; two in front of them, one with his heels behind them.

Not one moment too early. The ground trembled and the walls shook, the Obelisk destroyed the construction that held it upright and came crashing down with the rest of the ceiling, leaving Freed and Evergreen drowned in rubble, dust, and the sound of several tons of crashing rock.


	21. The Mayor

Freed didn't know for how long he did not dare to so much as move a finger, his eyes closed and holding onto Evergreen, yet not really aware that she was there at all. He trusted his runes, but a part of him still seemed to wait for something to happen, something to invade the protection of his barrier. The only thing he knew for sure was that at some point, he realised that the noise had settled into an eerie quiet.

He opened his eyes again to the clear night sky and the moon shining down on them. Though his logic knew what had happened, his thoughts had somehow not caught up and his mind was utterly blank.

“Let me go!”

It took Evergreen struggling against his arms and lights going on in the adjacent houses for him to grasp the situation. He released Evergreen as if he had been holding onto something on fire. She quickly put her glasses back on, and seemed to want to fly away as she conjured up her wings once more, but the sight of what had happened around them transfixed her to the ground, just like Freed.

A scream came from above, from one of the houses. Another quickly followed. Someone shouted: “Was that an earthquake? What happened...! Gracious gods...”

The cavern of Trifoil's old main mine had collapsed entirely. Rock and earth and cobblestones had fallen into it from the broken ceiling, burying everything; the table, the lacrima. Just a small triangle was left free, and there, Freed and Evergreen stood, staring up into the sky above what was left of the town square.

If not for his barrier, he and Evergreen would have been... taken by a sudden rush of panic, Freed conjured up his wings again. “Bickslow!”, he shouted. “Bickslow, where are you!”

But nobody answered.

Freed dashed over to where he suspected the entrance to the messaging shaft, something awful gaining a hold on his heart. He had only thought of protecting Evergreen, what if that decision had been wrong?

He called out for Bickslow once more, but atop the pile of rubble that was covering the messaging shaft, he wasn't sure he would even have been able to hear an answer. Panic crawled through his veins as his eyes shot up and down all over the ruins of the town square, hoping to lock onto something that would tell him that there was still hope.

At the very least, the ground above the messaging shaft had not collapsed, if his memory wasn't betraying him and he was looking at the wrong place. Rubble was all in front of it, pieces of marble from the broken Obelisk, too; but where the ground had been more solid, no ceiling had come down; at least as far as he could see. It did not have to mean that the messaging shaft was still complete, of course. And Freed couldn't enter it from this side.

He soared up, out of the gigantic hole that was now the town square, towards the town hall. His heart almost stopped as he saw that a good part of the Obelisk had not crumbled into pieces of marble, but had fallen into the town hall, collapsing the entrance and the balconies on the upper levels. He had only hope at his side that the cellar was still unharmed.

He had to get in there, somehow. But with the entrance in the state that it was in now, how was he supposed to follow the path they had taken before? Without something that he would label a definite plan, Freed flew around the town hall, keeping his eyes on the lower floors in hopes to find an opened window, and as he found none, he didn't think much before he broke one in the far back of the building, where the damages from the falling Obelisk were the smallest. He climbed in, parts of him feeling so besides himself that the movements of his hands and legs as he walked through the office and opened the door to a corridor seemed foreign, as if someone other than himself was performing them for him. He couldn't have been far from the way down to the cellar, and still it took him several agonizingly slow minutes of opening wondrously whole doors until he found the staircase to the cellar.

He had tried hard not to think about what he would find down there, and also tried hard to keep the relief at bay that threatened to wash over him at the sight of the cellar being mostly undamaged. It would just be all the more devastating to be wrong. 

But as he finally reached the room with the trapdoor, and could already make out several distinct voices, he caught himself on the wall for a moment and allowed himself a deep breath.

“Ouch... sorry, my shoulder's a mess”, said a woman, muffled through more than one wall.

“You get her up alone, okay?”, said a different voice, scratchy, but most of all, alive. “I've gotta get to Freed.”

“I am alright”, said Freed, now stepping into the door frame.

Bickslow, dust in his hair and his trousers torn, but grinning brightly, was at his side immediately and clapped him onto the back hard. “Dammit, buddy”, he said. “Don't scare me like that.”

“Same to you”, Freed said. Tension left his body as he saw Nivalius Trent helping Addy up the ladder, and he allowed himself to return Bickslow's gesture and clap his friend's back. “I am sorry I couldn't ---”

“Nah, don't”, said Bickslow rashly. “What about Ever, though?”

“She's fine”, Freed replied. The tentative peace of his thoughts dissipated as the reality outside of his friend's survival caught up to him. “Though the town square...”

Nivalius Trent, still kneeling and now hoisting Addy up to sit on the ledge of the trapdoor, looked over to him. His glasses were broken, but it was still hard to tell what he was thinking. 

“Much to do tonight, then, I suppose”, he said in a low, almost rumbling voice. “With the mayor... I suppose he's gone?”

“I think that, as well. He can move through the earth, after all; we've witnessed that.”

“Niv...”, started Addy, but Nivalius Trent raised his hands to silence her.

“I'm fine, Addy. We've got to look after the people.”

With Bickslow and Evergreen both save, Freed turned his attention to Nivalius Trent as they walked back through the remnants of the town hall. When Freed announced in a rather small voice that the entrance was blocked, he saw Nivalius Trent's Adam's apple move as if he gulped down a particularly large drink all at once; but otherwise, his face remained almost carved into stone, lips pressed together tightly and eyes focussed behind his broken glasses. He stayed like that for all the way through the window and around the house, reminding Freed once more of his eldest brother.

When they arrived at the edge of the large hole in the centre of the town, though, Nivalius Trent's calm facade cracked. 

“Oh my... gracious”, he muttered, his eyes wide and making a few steps back.

Addy groaned in frustration, Bickslow mumbled a few curses under his breath, half-shocked and half in awe. Freed, who had expected the view in contrast to the others, had a look around.

People had gathered around the hole, people in their night gowns carrying little lamps and candles, the voices and whispers of so many people had turned into a constant humming in the background. And all of the people were now staring at the four of them, pointing fingers and shaking fists.

Evergreen was nowhere to be seen. 

“Get them, Nivalius!”, shouted someone from the other side of the hole. “Addy! This is because of the kids!”

“This is our punishment!”, cried someone else. “We haven't followed their orders.”

“The girl that was with them already fled!”, screamed someone else. “It's all their fault!”

“Everything was fine before they came to town!”, shouted the first voice.

The humming in the background grew to something alike affirmation. Freed had never felt so put on the spot, so aware of people staring at him, and so thankful for a giant hole in front of him.

Bickslow groaned. “Dammit, they're at it again”, he muttered.

But most of all, somewhere deep within, Freed wasn't sure if he could really blame the people of Trifoil, or deny that what had happened tonight was on them, as well.

“We should apologise”, Freed said to Bickslow. “We did not stop the mayor, and ---”

But Nivalius Trent stretched out his hand in front of Freed to silence him, stepped forward towards the edge of the hole and took a deep breath.

“People of Trifoil”, he said in the quite authoritative voice he had used the night before, the voice that made the people stop their whispering and listen. “Many things have transpired tonight, but let me assure you, these children are not to blame.” A murmuring flared up within the crowd, but died down as Nivalius Trent raised his hands again. “I will inform you of everything, if you allow.”

The murmuring settled, and as the town was quiet again, Nivalius Trent raised his voice once more:

“We have been deceived, all of us. There has never been an outer threat to this town, on the contrary, the real threat has come from within.”

Shocked gasps and cries echoed over the plaza, dying down as Nivalius Trent raised his hands. “These children here, plus their companion, have helped greatly in uncovering what haunted this town for so long. It were no creatures, no fairies. No gods. Just a greedy man.”

Nivalius Trent made a small pause, his voice wavering at his last words. The whispers and now, even cries and shouts, grew louder immediately.

“How?”

“What're you telling there, Trent!”

“That cannot be!”

“But it is the truth, and I stand witness to it”, Nivalius Trent proclaimed. “The man who is responsible for all that has happened to Trifoil, and I am sorry to be the one to tell you this, is no other than mayor Barclay Ornua.”

Cries echoed over the plaza, and the murmuring grew into a clutter of voices shouting one thing or another, but all of sounded as disbelieving as Nivalius Trent had in the beginning. 

For a moment, it didn't seem like Nivalius Trent wanted to raise his voice another time. He had looked at the people first, but now, his eyes were cast onto the ground.

“You can believe him! I've seen it, too”, shouted Addy suddenly, as more and more fingers had been pointed at the four of them, again. “He's a wizard, and the earthquakes were his doing. Same with that here.” She nodded towards what was left of the town square. “He made it collapse to kill us.”

“He is also responsible for the light creatures. I've seen the lacrima that created them”, said Nivalius Trent. He reached for Addy's uninjured shoulder as she was now standing next to him and gave it a small squeeze. “And I also saw the contraption that teleported our gold and possessions away.”

“Where is it, then?”, shouted a man. “The money?”

“He took it”, said Nivalius Trent, his voice more subdued, but still loud enough that it echoed over the town square. “I couldn't stop him.”

“And neither could we”, said Freed loudly, feeling it was the time to add to the discussion.

What he said had fallen on deaf ears, as it seemed, though. “Stop that bullshit, Trent! What's up with you, you're working for the mayor!”, shouted someone.

“Not any longer, as of today.” The tone in Nivalius Trent's voice had turned colder, and the words were spoken with far less restraint and measure than his last statements. “Seeing as he fled the town, I assume the mayor will not return.”

“Did they put you under a spell, Nivalius?”, came another voice, loud despite it wavering. “The Gods? The children? You... you cannot be... this cannot be right!”

“The children are innocent!”, said Addy. Murmurs flared up in the crowd of people on the other side of the hole.

Bickslow, with a frustrated sigh, flung himself onto the ground and crossed his legs.

“We have no part in this”, said Freed. “We came here solely to help the town!”

“It only started after you little runts came here!”

“The mayor said you shouldn't even be here!”

“But if the mayor's a traitor...?”

“The children are here on my behalf”, Nivalius Trent cut in. Freed's eyes shot up to him, widening as he saw the firm expression in Nivalius Trent's face. “I sent out the request for help in the mayor's name to the surrounding guilds and these children answered it.”

“The mayor wouldn't have done a thing! I know a lot of you talked about that, down in the bar in the evening or in the mines when nobody was listening”, said Addy. “I know a lot of you wanted that help. We just took steps to get it.”

“I'm not proud of doing that behind the back of my superior at that time”, said Nivalius Trent. “But time proved it to be the right decision. We needed the help.”

“Fine help, that is! Our market place is gone, the town hall's a wreck and no money's left!”, grunted a man in the crowd, the same that had already made multiple adverse comments to Nivalius Trent's explanations.

“Very true, sadly”, said Nivalius Trent. “But there is still the shipment to Bosco. What was broken can be rebuild, and this time, nobody will go behind our backs.”

  


...

  


As the light broke through the curtains, Freed rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Bickslow was already up, scratching the back of his head, his hair in a worse state than normally.

“Next time we're doing an all-nighter, I want the day off afterwards”, he muttered.

Freed himself would have loved to turn around on his bed for the night, pull the blanked over his face and have another hour or two of sleep, but something in the back of his terribly awake mind told him he needed to get up.

“Complaining won't help you, I'm afraid”, he said dully and got up onto his feet. “We promised to leave in the morning, and I think we should not break such a promise another time.”

“I know”, Bickslow grumbled. “Still sucks.”

“Mr. Trent did all he could”, said Freed as he rolled his blanket together. He could feel the disappointment as well, the same one that had coloured Bickslow's voice darker. “But if it's in the village's best interest that we leave...”

“After we figured all that stuff out that they didn't even think of.”

“And ruined their market place.” Freed put the pillow onto a pile with the blanket, turned towards the corner of the study in which he had placed his backpack the night before.

“Come on, buddy”, said Bickslow in an exasperated tone. “That was that mayor, not us.”

“But we didn't stop him!”, Freed exclaimed, louder than intended.

Bickslow only sighed and shrugged a little. “No, we didn't”, he said. “And that's bugging me, too.”

A knock on the door kept Freed from answering. Without waiting for an answer, the door was pushed open a little, and the head of Nivalius Trent appeared in it. “I fear I must ask you to leave now.”

Freed shouldered his backpack, Bickslow slipped into his boots, still clearly disgruntled.

They had followed the discussion on the town plaza in the night for another hour or so, the shouting of arguments and questions that Nivalius Trent had patiently answered. In the end, though, it did not seem like any of the citizens of Trifoil truly believed in his words. Instead, the people apparently believed that he and Bickslow and Evergreen had hexed Nivalius Trent, some of them had reaffirmed that during the discussion.

Seeing as their standing in the village wasn't the best, Freed had suggested – against his own wishes because it would mean leaving his business here unconcluded – that they would leave early in the next morning. Nivalius Trent had immediately agreed, but allowed them to stay in his house for the night.

When they returned to it, they had also found Evergreen inside. She had watched everything from the study, as it had seemed, and had spent the following night on the sofa in the living room.

They met her now, already dressed and with her backpack on, sitting on it with her blanket neatly folded and her hands on her knees, staring into the air in front of herself, almost apathetically.

Freed wanted to know why she hadn't left them this time, but dared not to ask.

It was a quiet procession through the same streets of the town that Addy had lead them through yesterday, Nivalius Trent in front and the three mages following him quietly. Sometimes, Freed had the distinct feeling of being watched through closed windows, but whenever he looked around himself, the most he saw were a pair of hands rashly closing curtains.

They met Addy on the broken fence, climbed through, and moved further on through the forest. At the old chestnut where they had met her the day before, the five of them stopped without a note from either of their guides. 

“This is as far as I can accompany you, I'm afraid”, said Nivalius Trent. He had a rather official look on his face, though his eyes moved around, trying to lock onto something that wasn't Freed, Bickslow, or Evergreen. “I, uh... I appreciate that you see the situation in the town in the same light as I do and, uh... let us settle things on our own. And, of course, I appreciate the help you've given to us. We wouldn't have uncovered this... coup, without you.”

“Way to go, Trifoil”, muttered Bickslow. His eyes had taken on a hard look as he stared at Nivalius Trent. “I mean... they're still blaming us for all this crazy shit, don't they?”

“They'll come around, eventually”, said Addy. “You know this is a lot to swallow, that the mayor is behind all of this.”

“I assure you I'll make sure this is cleared up and the people will know the truth and trust it, but it will need time. You've seen it for yourselves, yesterday.”

“We understand, hence I offered to leave in the first place”, said Freed. As Evergreen did nothing to hide a disdainful snort, he quickly added: “But you have to understand, as well; we're leaving our business unfinished as the former mayor still goes free.”

“The plot's been uncovered and we're almost bankrupt, anyway”, Addy said easily. “He's not going to return.”

“But he goes without punishment for his crimes”, Freed said darkly. “And I could not prevent that.”

“We'll be prepared next time”, said Nivalius Trent. “And, nothing of this has ever been an official job, you remember?” The false pretence of official dignity on the assistant's face fell off now, and he allowed himself a wry grin. “So, as far as I'm concerned, you did all you could and more, as visitors to Trifoil.”

He held out his hand to Freed, and even though the heavy thing in his stomach that he felt since the last night didn't resolve, shaking his hand seemed to make it at least a little lighter. 

“We will rebuild, you can be sure of that”, said Nivalius Trent, as he went on to shake Bickslow's and Evergreen's hands. “Even though that means I cannot offer you any more than my thanks in return at the moment.”

“We're visitors, you said that yourself”, said Evergreen suddenly. Freed looked over to her, and from what he could already tell from her face, she seemed sincere. 

“Doesn't make it right to let you go without any sort of reward”, said Addy with a shrug. She followed Nivalius Trent's example now, but instead of shaking their hands, she gave Bickslow a hearty clap on the back, patted Freed's head and outright hugged Evergreen, who froze solid at the contact. “But whenever you're in the area, make sure to stop by, yes?”

“Yes, please do. And you might find the town in a better state, with a mayor better suited for the job and people who will know that you are not to blame for anything that happened in the last few days.”

At this words, Addy looked over to her friend and grinned like Bickslow sometimes did when a particularly outlandish idea came to his mind. 

“For now, though”, said Nivalius Trent. “I think this is good-bye.”

They said their farewells, Freed extended a few good wishes to the town, and Addy hugged all of them again. Then, she and Nivalius Trent turned around and walked back through the forest.

The three wizards turned into the other direction and left towards the main road.

They still heard the voices from their unofficial contractors for a while.

“I wonder who that mayor might be”, the voice of Addy said.

“We will see”, said Nivalius Trent matter-of-factly. “I will arrange for an election, I think.”

“Nah, I don't know. We might not need one.”

“It's not very democratic to forego an election, Addy. Trifoil's not a monarchy.”

As Bickslow snorted at this and looked at Freed from the corner of his eyes, they took a turn and soon, the voices of Addy and Nivalius Trent had turned into background chatter, and then, they were gone entirely.

They talked little on the way to Onibus. Evergreen was entirely quiet, and Bickslow's attempts at making conversation were not as earnest as at other times. Freed pondered on a lot of different topics, as well; by himself, mostly. It had appeared to him so often during the last few days that Nivalius Trent reminded him of his brother Hal, from his glasses to the willingness to fill a role with all that he could give, and follow the rules someone else had set, trusting they had been made for a reason. Freed hadn't heard from Hal following his exile, in contrast to his other brother, Coen. He hadn't really expected Hal to write, he knew it was impossible for him, being their father's heir and effectively his steward. He couldn't officially write to an exiled member of the family, while Coen, as a Rune Knight, could. And still, right in the wake of what Freed could not name a successful mission no matter how he turned the facts in his head, right in this moment, he missed Hal more than he did Coen, and he couldn't even say why. And he wished Hal would be more like Nivalius Trent and just write to him.

They bought train tickets in Onibus, each on their own, but in the same compartment. Evergreen sat closest to the window, a seat between her and the seat Bickslow had put his legs on, arms locked behind his head and staring at the ceiling. Freed sat next to Bickslow, his backpack opposite to Evergreen. She almost seemed as if she didn't take in her surrounding very well. 

“So... uhm, Evergreen. How are you doing? We didn't have the chance to talk yesterday.” Freed had not really paid attention to her since last night, either; but a part of him wondered if he should have talked to her sooner. But then again, she didn't seem like she wanted someone to talk to her, and he knew very well how that felt.

“Fine”, she said snidely, her eyes never leaving the world behind the window. “Just peachy.”

Bickslow groaned a little, Evergreen didn't miss it and let her glaring eyes soar over to him. “Why're you snapping like that again”, he drawled. “That was just a question.”

“Well how do you think I'm feeling?”, she replied, the tension in her voice rising.

“I don't know”, said Bickslow. “But you don't look peachy.”

Freed took it that now was the time to take the conversation back into his own hands before the animosity that was still clearly there between Evergreen and Bickslow would take over again. “As I recall, you were very interested in the source of the light creatures, and I fear we've not found as much information as you might have wished for.”

Evergreen snorted. “We found nothing”, she said scathingly. “Because that idiot over there destroyed the crystal!”

“Oi!” Bickslow yanked his legs away from the seat opposite of him and looked as if he wanted to jump up. “It was an accident, I'm new to that sort of magic.”

“Well it was absolutely useless”, Evergreen said, her voice heated. Freed wondered if she had stored all that what seemed to bubble up now somewhere and had just waited to let the anger out. “Your awful flying things and that light show. Just made everything worse!”

“Go ahead and deal with your own shit next time, then”, Bickslow grumbled. His cheeks had a faint red glow to them, and he had his fists balled.

“I would have, if you two morons wouldn't have followed me!”

“You keep bringing that up”, said Freed now, quicker than Bickslow who had already drawn in the breath for a reply again. “But I thought we established that nobody is to blame for the circumstances in which we acquired that mission.”

“No, _you_ decided that”, said Evergreen and pointed a finger straight at Freed's chest. “I still think you stole what was clearly my job.”

“Clearly”, said Bickslow with a sarcastic undertone. “Had your name written all over it.”

Evergreen's cheeks flared up pink, as well. “I will not discuss that now”, she said.

Bickslow laughed out, his coldest, most humourless laugh. “Why? 'Cause you're embarrassed by that fairy-tick of yours? 'Cause you still hoped that you'd find a fairy somewhere in that cave?”

Freed knew he shouldn't have said that. Evergreen jumped up now for real, was at Bickslow's side in an instant and loomed over him, her hands balled into fists. Bickslow relaxed, though, put his legs back onto the seat opposite of him and grinned toothily. “Hit a nerve?”

“Just shut up you big blueheaded asshole, or...”

“... or what? You try that eyes of yours against mine? 'S that what you usually do? I'm not afraid, c'mon, let's see who wins.”

“Say that again!”, thundered Evergreen.

“Bickslow!”, Freed threw in now. This was going way too far, even though neither of his companions had a hand at their respective glasses yet. “Stop aggravating the problem, please.”

With a challenging glare at Freed and a grin that exposed his tongue, Bickslow started rummaging in his pockets and pulled out something that looked like the shard of a crystal. 

“I've got this one”, he lilted. A part of Freed couldn't help but feel thankful that his friend was a thief, another wondered how that would make the situation less tense. “Broke off of the big lacrima. I nicked it when the cavern collapsed. You want that, sister?”

Evergreen measured Bickslow up for a few seconds, cold disdain in her eyes. “I'm not your sister”, she spat. “And you can keep the trash for yourself, I don't need it.”

“We could find out something about the magic stored in it”, said Freed, ostensibly calm. They would do good in talking about something less heated. The train was almost reaching Magnolia by the look of it. “And maybe solve the question about the light creatures once and for all if we do.”

He looked at Evergreen with thinly veiled hope that the conversation would turn back to more casual topics, but she shut him down with a glare almost as disdainful as the one she had given Bickslow earlier. “And what would that change? If I have to jog your memory a little, the guy responsible for this has fled thanks to you two!”

“We all weren't particularly well equipped for the situation, I think so much should be clear”, said Freed, though he, too, was feeling a little too much blood in his cheeks. “If one of us is at fault, all of us are.”

“You might be”, Evergreen spat. “If I'd worked alone as intended, that wouldn't have happened.”

“Wow, you're really stupid, aren't you?”, Bickslow said. 

“Don't talk to me like that!”, she replied. Her eyes were burning, her hands shaking. “I had everything under control until you tripped”, she shook an outstretched finger at Freed, “and you blew up the whole cavern because _you're_ too stupid for your own magic!”

Bickslow jumped up now, as well, the crystal still in hand just as the train started to get slower. “Okay, you know what?”, he growled. “Think of me what you like, I don't care. But Freed fucking saved your live, so---”

“I never asked him to!”, Evergreen suddenly screamed, before Bickslow could even finish. “I never asked either of you to come and help me or whatever you were trying to do! I work alone, and I don't owe anything to you!”

“Evergreen...”, started Freed. The train wheels were screeching against the rails as it decelerated. “Of course you don't owe me anything. I never---”

But she threw him a look of pure hatred, grabbed her backpack and stormed off with such force that she even pushed Bickslow out of the way. He fell back into his seat as the train came to an unexpected halt, and all Freed could catch of Evergreen was a last glint of her green clothing as she rushed around the corner and out of the train.

For a moment, the boys simply stared after her. Then, as the train had almost emptied, Bickslow got back up onto his feet, mumbling curses under his breath. “I won't ever”, he said, unveiled menace darkening his voice. “Ever. Work. With that harpy again.”

Freed took in a deep breath, he wasn't sure what to make of Evergreen as well, but couldn't agree just so. There was something about her that seemed almost familiar to him, too familiar to let it go. He grabbed his backpack instead, tried a casual shrug at Bickslow that he hoped looked somewhat placating. 

But as he had just left the compartment, he heard Bickslow's angry voice behind him once more. “And she fucking stole the lacrima shard!”

Freed turned around to find Bickslow searching his seat and the one next to it, with no lacrima in sight. Hadn't she said that she didn't want the lacrima, why had she taken it then? Had she changed her mind, or had she lied?

It occurred to him suddenly that it might not have been the only time she had done either of these things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And... suddenly, there's only one more chapter to go o.O That went really fast for 22 chapters...


	22. Epilogue: Lucky Aftermath

They did not see Evergreen again in the guild hall for many days. Macao told them that she had been in the guild hall early in the morning of the day after they had all returned to Magnolia, and had taken five different jobs all over Fiore. Bickslow had seemed pleased at the prospect of not having to see her again soon. Freed, however, wondered if it would change anything. There were many things left that they probably should speak about with her, like the questions about the lacrima shard.

Despite Freed's concerns, Master Makarov hadn't taken the news of what had happened in Trifoil particularly hard. He'd asked if anyone in Trifoil was likely to inform the Council about the damage, and as Freed told him that Trifoil probably would just solve their own issues, the Master had shrugged, grinned at him and Bickslow, and said: “Well then, everything's fine.” Seeing their disappointed faces, he had added in a softer voice: “Don't worry. Failures happen along the way. Did you became a good swordsman in a few weeks? Did you learn so many stunts and tricks in just a few days?”

Freed and Bickslow had exchanged a sideways glance then, and for the first time since Trifoil, Bickslow's little smile had seemed genuine, and Freed didn't feel so heavy in his stomach any more.

In the first evening after their return, though, Freed had sat down in his room above the tavern and had written to Coen, telling him all about Trifoil and their disastrous first big job, and about the mayor that they had let escape. 

His brother's reply arrived a few days later.

  


_Freed,_

  


_it had to be Fairy Tail, hadn't it? Image me, worrying about my baby brother, receiving the message that he joined the most rambunctious guild in all of Fiore... And now image your other brother, who I keep up to date on your travels, as well. I must say, when I imagined the look on Hal's face, I had a good laugh – he's going to do that thing where he takes off his glasses, rubs his eyes, puts the glasses back on and paces through his room while reading the letter over and over again, worrying you might become a criminal. I'm sorry, brother, that this goes slightly at your expense – but I find it highly amusing._

_But jokes aside, I'm glad you made your decision, and actually proud that you made it alone, even if I might have concerns about this guild. We will see in the future how this all plays out. For the moment, you have a Wizard Saint around you, and a friend by the sound of it, and that is all that matters to me as your brother._

_Now about the matter with your mission._

_Did I ever tell you about my first mission as a Rune Knight? I had just finished training, and I had this commander I really wanted to impress. I felt confident I could – I had been the best of my group, after all, and a real fight could not be much different to a practise one, no? We were persecuting a fleeing wizard from a dark guild, and when I got a glimpse of him, I chased after him. I didn't wait for my comrades, I didn't inform my commander. I thought I could do it, and that it would be good for my reputation. Well... as it turned out, I bit off more than I could chew that day. The mage was an illusionist, and I soon found myself in one so crafty that I couldn't see through it. I had almost jumped from a cliff because in the illusion, it seemed to me like I was chasing down a road towards my target. I stopped one step away from the cliff as my commander, who had followed me after I had run off, broke the illusion. The other new soldiers in my group then caught the mage. I was young, and foolish, and stupid, and I've never made a mistake like that again._

_What I want to say is this: None of us are perfect. We make mistakes because we're arrogant, or we're misjudging a situation because we lack experience. But we also learn, step by step. A long journey always starts with a single leap of faith._

_About the situation in Trifoil, however, I can only say that it appals me to think that the mayor of a respected town like Trifoil turns out to be so manipulative and greedy. I trust your word, Freed, and so I have gotten in contact with our post in Onibus. The local commander promised to send a group of Knights to Trifoil, see if they can track the mayor or at least put him on the wanted list. He's not going to go free through the lands of Fiore, and if what you say turns out true, not in Bosco either. The Rune Knights have connections._

_Freed, don't stew to much over losing that one battle. Your next might go better, will go better, I'm certain. And Hal is, too; he sent me a letter recently, asked if I am in contact with you. He sends his regards; well, he formulated it more carefully, but you know him. He's always playing it safe._

_Anyway. I will keep an ear up for messages from our post in Onibus, and get you updated about Trifoil. Until then, I wish you all the best,_

  


_Your brother,_

_Coen_

  


Freed had read the last part of the letter more than a dozen times, the part about Hal sending his regards. Sometimes, being in exile seemed more like an adventure to him, especially since he was around Bickslow as much as he was. But sometimes, when thinking about home, it still appeared to him like a burden more than a chance. Knowing that Hal hadn't forgotten about him, though, gave him hope that one day, the things between him and his family would not be as complicated any more.

What had really helped lifting his spirits, as well, was a letter that arrived about a week after Coen's letter, and that was addressed to “Ms. Evergreen, Mr. Freed Justine and Mr. Bickslow, Fairy Tail guild, Magnolia”.

As Evergreen had not been seen in a while at that point, Freed and Bickslow had read the letter alone as a confused Macao had handed it to them.

It was written in emerald green ink on heavy parchment, by someone who tried his best to make his sloppy handwriting more readable.

  


_To Evergreen, Freed and Bickslow,_

  


_I hope this letter reaches you. I sent it to your guild, and I hope the people there hand it over to you._

_The situation in Trifoil is getting better day by day. After you left, we immediately started securing the houses around the plaza, removed the debris as good as possible. The mine workers got the shipment to Bosco ready, and after that was done with, they started excavating the remainders of the old mine. I don't think everyone believed our story just yet, but Addy got a lot of them to think ahead first, because rebuilding is more important than looking for a culprit. For the moment, that worked fine._

_A couple of days later, though, a group of Rune Knights from Onibus came to us. I received them, and they informed me that a contact of theirs in Crocus told them about the circumstances with mayor Ornua, and offered to help with the investigation. I asked for a name, and as they told me of a Lieutenant Coen Justine, I assumed the gentleman is a relative or yours, Freed? In any case, I allowed them to stay, though some of the people didn't seem to like it._

_To cut a long story short, a couple of nights ago the Rune Knights were able to track down the underground tunnels that the mayor had build using his magic, they lead to what we think served as a stash a good mile into the forest. Thanks to the mayor's hasty departure, parts of the fortune Trifoil lost could still be found there, he was probably unable to take it with him. There was no sign of the mayor himself though, and the Knights assume he continued to travel on the surface from there on. They skimmed the forest to no avail, and left in the morning without finding him. He is on the wanted list now, though, as the Knights have informed me._

_What matters most is that I can trust now that he will not escape, and that people stationed all over the country know his name, his face, and what he has done to this town. It also helped some of the people that still doubted to see that the officials are taking action to support the town. And, we've got a little of what we lost back, it is not much, but it will help restoring the plaza._

_I've also decided to sell all of the statues and paintings in the town hall, at least those that aren't damaged. We need a restored town more than the glory, and more than golden frames. I never liked them, anyway._

_I want you to know that should you want to visit Trifoil, you are always welcome here. In the two weeks since that fateful night, many of the townsfolk have come around and the next time you come here, you will be our guests of honour. Thank you once more for your aid in this matter, I could not have accomplished any of this without you._

_Until next time, may you always travel save._

  


_With best regards,_

_Nivalius Trent, acting mayor of Trifoil_

  


_PS: We will hold an election for the position of the mayor in a couple of weeks. So far, it seems I'm the only candidate. Nobody else wants to compete. Should I really be elected mayor, I think I will form a town council. And I want to try and locate a wizarding guild in Trifoil. With a bit of luck, you can help us with your expertise then._

_PPS: Addy sends her regards. She's got more than both of her hands full with the rebuilds, but when I think of that town council, I think it would be a good idea to have her on it. But I should not make plans for an uncertain future. It is still an election. Keep your fingers crossed._

  


“I've suspected as much”, said Freed with a little grin as he folded the letter back together and put it back into its envelope. 

“You think we should show that to the shrew?”, Bickslow said. He grinned a little, too; but also wrinkled his brow.

“Her name is Evergreen.” Bickslow had taken on the habit of finding all sorts of colourful words to refer to Evergreen, and though Freed did his best to correct him most of the time, his admonitions didn't stick. “And yes, of course. It is addressed to her, as well.”

“Then just give it back to Macao and let him handle that”, said Bickslow dully.

“I will keep it, I think. Unless you want it, of course.” 

He held the letter out to Bickslow, who only snorted and shook his head. “And be responsible for getting it to the harpy? Nope.”

“In any case”, said Freed, and put the letter into his backpack. It was early in the morning, and he and Bickslow wanted to go on another job – a smaller, easier one. “I'm glad that Trifoil is recovering and that the Rune Knights are informed. It seems we didn't ruin everything.”

“I guess we didn't really talk about it, did we?”, said Bickslow as they left the guild hall. Their job would take them to a village a little farer up north, they would go on foot this time. “I mean, you said you wanted to 'gauge your abilities' or something, with that Trifoil-job. And? How's that gauging going?”

Freed took a deep breath and looked at his friend with a look that hopefully answered the question all by itself. He thought better of it, though, and replied: “I think we still have a long journey ahead of us. I think Trifoil showcased that.”

“That we're a bunch of teenaged morons?”, said Bickslow, helpfully.

“No, that our magic has limits”, said Freed. “The fight with the mayor would have ended much differently if my magic would offer higher offensive possibilities.”

“Or if my magic would be worth a damn”, Bickslow muttered sarcastically.

They hadn't talked about that, either, it occurred to Freed. “Do you know what those... those green beams were?”

“I haven't got the faintest clue”, said Bickslow, his words wrapped in a long sigh.

“Did you try it again since then?”

Bickslow grimaced, an attempt at a grin twisted into something that looked faintly apologetic. “I don't know if that's such a good idea, buddy.”

“Why? It saved me back then, and used correctly, the offensive possibilities could be devastating.”

Bickslow didn't answer in a while, just shoved his hands deeper into his pockets. Freed thought it best not to pressure him. When they had almost left Magnolia behind, his friend said: “I guess... I guess old man Makarov is right. I ought to figure out what this ominous price of my magic is before I try stuff like that again.”

“Is it because what Evergreen said? Please, don't let her words get to you. I don't think your magic is useless.”

Bickslow laughed out. “Thanks, buddy. But I'm done with her, she's not gonna drag me down.”

Freed wondered if that was really the truth, but at the very least, Bickslow had never lied to him. In contrast to Evergreen, most likely.

“In any case, I think it's wise what you're planning to do”, he said to Bickslow then. 

“Makes me feel much better if you think I'm wise”, said Bickslow sarcastically. “'Cause that's what I'm generally known for.”

Freed couldn't help a small laugh either. 

“I guess you're right, though”, Bickslow continued. “We've still got a lot to figure out, both of us.”

They left the main street of Magnolia now, into the forests that would lead them to the destination of their newest job. There was an idea in Freed's head, something that had come to him during the last few weeks in which he had reflected on Trifoil. It was more a vague figment than a plan just yet, but something that had never left him, anyway. Something that might help him, nonetheless, but with too many maybes to be worth transforming into a course of action yet. He would continue to think of it another time, just as he would continue to wonder about Evergreen, and about all the other questions regarding his eye. 

For the moment, he would give into Bickslow's attempts at distraction and wonder out loud over what their newest job would entail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is it. A part of me still can't believe I actually managed to complete two full stories, and that this story is "over" - I started it more than two years ago, and it took me far longer than the first part of this series. Anyway! I wanted to say a couple of things now that I'm finished with this part:  
> First off, a big thank you to everyone who read this story, left kudos and/or took the time to leave a comment. It means a lot to me that you came here, and it makes me pretty happy to know that there are people out there who enjoyed this.  
> Second, I want to thank my two beta's again - TalinMirengo, my awesome writer buddy; and my beta-listener. Thanks for your support :)  
> As a third point, something about the future of this work: I am planning a third story at the moment; I am currently outlining it and I will hopefully start writing over the summer. I won't make promises, but I'll assume it'll take me about a year to finish, since it's going to be shorter than this one. The next story will focus - minor spoiler - a bit more on Bickslow. I also have ideas for a fourth story that I really, really, really want to write as well; but that is currently so far into the future that it's really just an idea. The fourth story would focus much more on Evergreen.   
> Speaking of Evergreen: I know she's quite the hand full in this story, and doesn't end up on the best terms with Freed and especially Bickslow. But please, bear with me - as I've mentioned above, I have plans for her, and future stories are meant to explain more about her, and about her current relationship to the boys.  
> As a last point - we had a small Laxus-cameo in here, and who knows, he might get another in the future ;) However, the four-story-cycle that I am currently planning will not involve him as a major character. Should I ever get that far that I want to write a fifth story in this cycle, it'll definitely be about Laxus and how Freed, Bickslow and Evergreen really became the Raijinshuu. I have a couple of ideas, all very vague at this point.  
> So... I guess that's it :) Thanks again for staying with me over the last roughly 22 weeks; and I hope to see you again in Part III!

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to my beta reader TalinMirengo and my beta-listener, who've helped so much in getting this ready. You've heard me ramble about this story for about two years :D Thanks a lot, you both have been invaluable!


End file.
